Making Memories
by startswithhope
Summary: Collection of my smuttier CS tumblr fics, set in 4A and beyond...(now including Season 6)
1. Second Chances

_Emma finds a way to finally rid Killian of his jealousy...of himself. Smutty one-shot prompted by a tumblr follower for Killian and Emma to have a conversation about Emma's kiss with past Hook on the Jolly during their journey to the past._

* * *

There's warmth buzzing beneath her skin, set ablaze by the shared rum and lingering looks, flirtatious promises and brazen interludes during their walk, the most recent leaving her ponytail a bit mussed from his assault of her neck against the wall of the cannery. Finally at the docks, her foot catches a loose board and his arms are there, strong and sturdy, his low chuckle buried in her shoulder as he prolongs his rescue with his lips. Heat rushes downward as his hand anchors low on her stomach, holding her tight against him as he rocks his hips forward, his lips drawing her earlobe between his teeth on a low growl. They both know how this will end, the only question remaining being whether they will actually make it on board the Jolly before their joint control snaps, the lack of a harbormaster suddenly a thankful occurrence.

His hair is soft beneath her fingers when she reaches back, the rush of air escaping his lips when she gently tugs sending goosebumps along the column of her neck. Her hand in his hair has to move quickly to grab his neck as she suddenly finds herself lifted, her other hand anchoring at his collar as her surprised gasp mingles with his satisfied laugh. Shifting her legs slightly, cold air hits her skin as her tights snag in his hook, the thin fabric tearing against the steel as his long strides lead them towards the gangplank.

"Do you make a habit of carrying women on board your ship, Captain?"

"Only you, Swan."

"Your form has improved since last time, I must admit. Less staggering this time…"

His assured steps falter slightly as his brows furrow in confusion, the blue of his eyes darkening as he looks to her for assistance with a seemingly forgotten memory.

"Begging your pardon, love, have we done this before?"

"Yes, but you don't remember it."

Understanding turns his mouth downwards, the muscle in his jaw flexing as he looks ahead once again and carries her in silence across the gangplank. He's setting her to her feet the moment his boots hit the deck, his mumbled "I see" barely heard beneath the rustling of leather as she slides her arms from his neck. Before he can turn away, she grips his lapels, determined that tonight she will find a way to rid him of this jealousy once and for all. It's ridiculous to the extreme, especially since the man is jealous of _himself_.

"Killian Jones, I'm going to admit something to you right now and then I'm going to head downstairs. It'll be up to you to decide what happens next."

His eyes snap to hers from their previous position memorizing the knot in the wood by his boot, curiosity peeking through the brooding as he waits for her to continue. Dropping her hands from his jacket, she sets them on her hips, her confident stance masking the nerves churning in her gut at what she's about to confess. Taking a deep breath, she juts her chin forward and lays it all on the table, or the deck, _or whatever_.

"Yes, I enjoyed flirting with _Captain Hook_. He was bold and sensual, dangerous and free. I could pretend to be someone else with him, give in to the attraction I was feeling for you without the worry of consequences and any deeper meaning. It was like life gave me a free pass and I allowed myself to revel in it, in the attention. But it was just a ruse, meaningless, and I'm sorry that you had to bear witness to it. I'm not sorry I let him kiss me, though. You are quite the excellent kisser, _Captain_. Now, if you think you can stop being jealous of yourself for long enough, I'll be in the Captain's Quarters, fully prepared to make a memory neither of us are likely to forget."

His slack jawed expression is the last she sees before she turns on her heels to leave him on the deck, the beating of her heart matching the fast click of her boots as she makes her way to the hatch and descends below. Pressing her chilled hands to her cheeks, she tries to calm her breathing, her boldness leaving her reeling as she waits with her back to the stairs for him to follow. She knows he will. Less than a minute passes before she hears his footsteps above moving quickly and with purpose.

Turning to face him, she watches as his legs appear, memories of watching the same movement flashing before her eyes until she sees his face, desire and a hint of amusement flickering beneath the azure depths. He shrugs his jacket to the floor as he saunters towards her, his swagger full of Hook bravado as his tongue presses deep in his cheek, his hand and hook coming to rest on her hips as he walks them both slowly until her backside hits the table.

"Perhaps, Swan, we should pick up where we left off?"

"You've kept me waiting long enou…"

The last of her taunt is lost in the hot press of his mouth against hers, the force of his kiss stealing her breath as his hips align with hers with torturous accuracy. The contact has her gasping against his lips, her hands moving to grip his waist to pull him closer, harder. His tongue delves deeper in response, his hand on her hip sliding upward beneath her shirt, the warmth of his hand giving life to this fantasy she's secretly held onto until now. Pulling back from his mouth, she watches as his eyes open to regard her, his breath shallow, kiss swollen lips slightly parted, all of him igniting a fire of need so bright she's afraid she might combust.

Releasing his waist, she finds the table behind her with her hands before pushing to her tiptoes so she can shimmy backwards, suddenly thankful for the wool of her skirt protecting her from splinters as she settles on the ancient wood. Wasting no time, she pulls him by the belt back between her legs, his hand moving to cup her neck as she feels his hook begin a slow drag along the outside of her thigh. She moves to kiss him, but he keeps his lips away, leaving a breath of space between them as his forehead comes to rest gently against hers. His fingers slowly slide into her hair as she feels the cool metal slide over the hole in her stockings, the sound of tearing filling the silence as the sharp tip moves across her thigh. The look in his eyes as he slowly shreds the garment beneath her skirt has her center pulsing with anticipation, their shared breaths quickening as her hands on his belt begin to go to work.

His mouth falls open as her hand reaches in past his open zipper, his readiness for her evident as she palms his hard length straining against his boxer briefs. The action breaks his resolve and his mouth descends once again, her name escaping his lips on a moan as his hand her hair anchors her for his assault. His kisses are dizzying, distracting, all progress she was making with his pants thwarted as she allows herself to drown in his passion for her. Her hands sneak beneath the bottom of his shirt, seeking the soft hairs and firm muscles of his stomach, a part of his body she's spent many hours worshipping on the bed mere feet away. He shudders slightly at her touch before leaning into it, his lips parting from hers long enough to give her room to pull his shirt over his head. Wrapping her fingers around his pendants, she gives a gentle tug until he gets the hint and shifts his mouth to her outstretched neck, releasing a deep moan as his lips begin to suck at _that spot_ beneath her ear.

Using her free hands, she makes quick work of the buttons on her own shirt, needing to feel his skin against hers, the heady warmth of him pressed against her breasts. Lifting his head from her neck, he helps her out of the arms of the garment, his hook and hand moving immediately to slide the straps of her bra down her shoulders. His mouth is already closing around her bared nipple as she gets the back clasp released, the flimsy lace snagging briefly on his hook as he frees it from between them. Desperate need spikes with each swirl of his tongue and pinch of his teeth, her hands in his hair the only thing keeping her upright as her back bows and her head falls back in pleasure. She shifts her focus back downwards when his lips release her breast, his eyes hot on hers as he lifts his head and pulls her flush against his chest, both of them gasping slightly as skin finally meets skin.

She kisses him this time, gripping his back as she slides forward until she can feel the hard ridge of his erection slide against where she's aching and beyond ready for him, suddenly desperate to move things along at a faster pace. Releasing her lips on a groan, his hook and hand dive beneath her skirt to rip away the remains of her tights and panties, unbridled determination making quick work of the lace and nylon. Widening her legs, she watches as he releases himself from his boxer briefs, waiting only until he's pushed them down past his hips before she's circling her legs around him to pull him back to her. His hook digs into the wood by her thigh as his hand disappears beneath her skirt, her fingernails digging into the cuff at his wrist at the sudden pleasure of his thumb circling and pressing as he lines himself at her center. Too far gone for gentleness, she grips his waist with her free hand and urges him forward, meeting his mouth halfway in a needy kiss. His hand snakes around her until he's supporting her backside, finally sliding home with force, cursing against her lips as he pulls back and repeats the motion, over and over, until his name falls from her lips on a breathy cry. Lifting her hips, she urges him to push through the beginnings of her release, the tightening of her walls around him pulling him closer and closer to joining her in the blissful fall over the edge. He comes on a broken gasp, seating himself within her fully as his head falls to her shoulder, the damp hair on his forehead pressing against her neck as he struggles to find his breath.

Sliding her hand into his hair, she strokes his scalp lightly until he's able to lift his head, meeting his sated smile with one of her own. Their hands both lift to cup each other's cheeks, his resting lightly on her jaw as she softly traces his scar with her thumb, warmth and love passing between them with each gentle touch.

"Can you stop being jealous of yourself now, please?"

"Aye love, bloody bastard will never have any idea of what he was missing."


	2. navigate me

_sexy sextant lesson ahead..._

* * *

He speaks of sailor's magic, his words rumbling lightly against her throat, his hand guiding her fingertips around the handle with a firm grip. Cold steel meets warm skin as the slight lift of her arm allows his hook access to her waist, the hem of her sweater short and the dip of her jeans low. _"Steady, Swan,"_ he whispers as he loosens his fingers, leaving her to hold the ancient instrument on her own as he nods toward the horizon.

She shivers as he speaks of angles, his hand tracing hers from the curve of her elbow to the dip of her shoulder, the catch of his rings against her skin the sweetest of torture. Retaliation is swift, his gasp as she bends into him like a victory, arousal a game best played by two. " _Tsk, tsk,_ " he says, hook and hand working in tandem, her hips now immobile as the distance is closed. The wood of the helm now cradles her breasts as she grips the wheel with one hand, his sextant precariously balanced in the other.

He navigates her body as well as the stars, his voice alone tightening her strings as his fingertips play songs along her skin. Setting the brass down on the wood, her other hand takes hold of the wheel, bracing for his victory, welcoming it in full. His hand finds her breast, cupping and caressing as he explains the importance of _"accuracy and precision"_ , the curve of his hook finding such perfection applying gentle pressure between her legs.

Leaning in, she traps his arm against the mast, the tension building with each rock of her hips against his steel. His instructions die off as his fingers move to her jeans, deftly popping the button as his lips find her neck, the hot heat of his mouth adding to the warmth aching for his touch. Pressing her backside against his hardening length, she releases his hook as the pads of his fingers being to strum, her fingernails adding gauges to those already adorning the enchanted wood.

His commands are that of her Captain, leaving tingles as they're mouthed roughly into the back of her neck. Each word spoken with a flick of his thumb and the press of his palm, demanding she " _let go_ " and " _come for me_ ", both orders she follows without reluctance. Collapsing against the mast as he continues to stroke, she releases one final gasp as another coil unfurls, his victorious chuckle buried against her sweat slicked throat. He mumbles about her " _being a quick study_ " and an " _excellent first mate_ ", unknowing that she's merely summoning the energy to turn the tables and set out on a journey all her own.


	3. come in for a while

_Set after Killian and Emma's stroll at the end of "Unforgiven"..._

* * *

Pressing harder against his lips, she seeks the warmth of his mouth as his still frigid hand moves to cup her cheek in the hallway by her door. She'd pulled him to her as he'd begun another apology, silencing words she didn't need to hear with her kiss. They'd talked enough and now she needed this, the kiss that was interrupted, the feel of his body against hers, a moment where fears and regrets could be forgotten. His fingers curl around the back of her head as she slides her gloved hand down the leather zipped over his chest, breath catching and passion already spiraling. The hindrance of too many layers and a sudden realization cause her to pause and slow her lips, waiting until he finally catches on and she can pull back far enough to speak.

"The loft is empty, come in for a while?"

His eyes flicker from her lips to her eyes and he manages a hazy nod before he's kissing her again, the implications of her invitation sparking something new and unexplored. It takes great effort, but she manages to lean away long enough to turn in his arms to unlock the door, the heat of him pressed against her back making her fingers tremble slightly as she fumbles with the key. His mouths closes on her neck as soon as they're inside the loft and she pulls away, knowing they need to keep moving… _now_ , as fast as possible. Pointing up towards her bedroom, she shrugs out of her coat as she leads them up the stairs, her ears perking up at the sound of his zipper releasing behind her. The wardrobe is left ajar with coats thrown inside as they finally stumble together into her bedroom, her hands in his hair and his own curved tight around her backside.

It's a tangle of tongues and lips as their kisses reach a crescendo, every inch of contact more than they've before allowed and yet still not enough. She gasps against his mouth at the feel of his hook sliding high beneath the back of her sweater, the curve pressing into her skin with an urgency he's never shown. The tip catches on the back of her bra and his hand drags her hips even closer, the evidence of his passion pressing deep between her legs. Fantasies of finally reaching this point and beyond flash behind her eyes and she moves, walking them backwards until his knees hit her mattress and she can push him to sit. His new position brings his head level with her breasts and he wastes no time in pressing his lips there, the heat of his mouth warming the fabric covering her nipple as he gently tugs it between his teeth.

The lack of restraint in his actions adds to the warmth pooling in her center as years of tension seem to have broken his resolve, hers crumbling to pieces at her feet as his hand moves to cup her other breast. Within moments, her sweater is on the floor and she's sitting astride his lap, swallowing his gasp of surprise with a deep, searching kiss. She can feel his leather brace beneath his shirt as his arm wraps around her waist, holding her close as he pulls back, his breath heavy and broken against her mouth. He's trying to gain some control of himself, she can tell, but she doesn't want that. She wants this…passion and need and hormones, the heady progression of skin seeking skin. It's been too long, too much wanting, waiting, obstacles and interruptions. The time they have, it's not to be wasted. Reaching for his hand resting on her hip, she pulls it between them until she's molded it back over her breast.

"Touch me, Killian."

His fingers flex beneath hers as he cups her gently at first, but then with purpose, the flimsy lace of her bra roughly shoved aside as he seeks her nipple with his palm. She can feel his eyes on her as she reacts to his touch, every flick of his thumb tightening the threads of need in her center, fraying and ready to snap. Her hips dig down at the first swipe of his tongue, the closing of his lips that follow pulling moans from them both. He whispers her name as her fingers unclasp her bra, his hand and hook moving to pull it away as he leans back to take her in. His eyes follow her hands as they move from his neck to his shirt, her fingers swiftly releasing buttons until she meets the barrier of his vest. Shivering as his rings brush her stomach, she lets him help until his chest is bare and his charms swinging from his neck are the only thing left between them. They press between her breasts as he crushes her to him, the tiny skull and dagger leaving indentions in her skin.

Her mouth finds his again as her hips begin to rock; her hands now lost in his hair as his joins his hook to grasp at her waist. Chasing, gasping, their movements become one, her heat rolling over his growing length, both wanting more, but too turned on to stop. Her hands grip his neck at the sudden searching of his fingers at her waistband and she shifts back on his thighs, giving him the access he desires. Searing her gaze into his as he pops the button on her jeans, she drops her mouth as his fingers seek and his knuckles graze. She lets him tease until she can take no more, swiftly sliding from his lap to crawl onto the bed. He follows without instruction, settling beside her, his hand falling warm and low on her stomach. Her fingers grasp his charms as his seek out her warmth, finally, blissfully sliding against her where she's warm and ready.

The feel of him touching her so, it's overwhelming. More than she imagined, so much more. Her whole body rolling beneath his hand, she pants against his neck as his fingers move faster, circling and teasing until her thighs begin to shake. The first tingles of her release come quickly and she seeks out his lips, needing his kiss to swallow her cries as her hips rise from the bed and she crashes over the edge. His desire for her seemingly only heightened; he doesn't wait for her to come down before he's rolling her towards him, positioning her until her thigh falls heavy between his legs. Knowing what he needs, she rocks against him briefly before sliding back to his side, her sudden retreat pulling a pained groan from his lips.

His protests are quieted as her hands begin to loosen his belt, his eyes blowing wide as he realizes she plans to reciprocate. Propping herself on her elbow, she lifts her fingers to his lips, slowly tracing his open mouth with her thumb. Azure to turns to midnight as she journeys down his chest, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as her fingers reach and wrap around his length. Releasing him from the confines of his jeans, she slowly begins to stroke, learning what he likes with every sound he makes, every lift of his hips towards her hand. His fingers unclench from the blanket by his hip and he leans up to kiss her, the action so sudden that she loses her balance and ends up on her back. They shuffle until he's propped on his forearms above her, his breath hot against her cheek as she takes him back in hand, loving the feel of him sliding between her fingers. His erection presses against her belly between strokes and it takes everything in her not to guide him lower, let him take her completely, fill her, _love her_. Knowing he's too far gone and she's not quite ready, she increases the pressure of her hand and moves to whisper his name against his ear, telling him it's okay…that he can let go. As if permission was all he needed, his head falls to her shoulder as he swells beneath her fingers, his release coating her stomach as he tries to keep his trembling body upright above her.

The intensity of the moment crackles in the air between them and when he finally lifts his head, his eyes are warm and loving and a sated smile adorns his lips. Her fingers brush lightly at his chin as he leans in for a sweet kiss, ended abruptly at the sound of the door of the loft opening below. Thankful that she's dating a pirate, he merely smirks before kissing her again, eventually pushing himself quietly from the mattress to sneak around the corner into her tiny bathroom. She's still smiling at the ceiling when he returns to her side; pants zipped back up with a warm washcloth between his fingers.

This should be awkward, but it's not. Not when he's looking at her the way he is, and not with the care in which he cleans her skin. After helping her back into her sweater he'd retrieved from the floor, he makes a move to stand up from the bed.

"Hey, will you stay for a while?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, if you want to, that is?"

He scoffs quietly at that statement before moving to sit at the edge of the bed, his shoulders flexing as he leans down to remove his boots. She sighs with happiness and moves to do the same, fixing her jeans as well before standing to look over at him where he is now mirroring her on the other side of the bed. He's shrugged his vest off, but left on his shirt, his hook now resting beneath the lamp on her nightstand. They smile at each other briefly before moving to pull down the blankets, both immediately sliding towards the center of the mattress. Lips connect in a heated rush as the desire still lingering between threatens to spark anew, but they both seem to know their limits, settling for a few minutes of kisses and roaming hands.

His fingers tangle in her hair as she comes to rest against his chest, their rapid breathing eventually calming as they settle into each other's rhythm. He falls into slumber first, his kiss swollen lips slightly parted, dark hair in disarray against her pillow. As she watches him sleep, she thinks that maybe she's ready. Maybe telling him she loves him will be okay…that nothing has to change. Maybe she should wake him and tell him now.

Maybe tomorrow…tomorrow sounds good.


	4. time of roses

…' _twas twilight, and I bade you go,  
But still you held me fast;  
It was the time of roses—  
we pluck'd them as we pass'd (_ _x_ _)_

 _Inspired by the spoiler photos for 5X04 with the roses and the mighty need I have for this…_

* * *

She smells of roses. Her skin, soft and warm beneath him, filling his nose with the fragrance of the dusty pink of the flowers she'd tucked into her bodice during their ride back. When he'd seen them, he couldn't help the romantic gesture, never imagining it would lead to this. His wildest dreams never conjured such a moment, such perfection he knows he is not worthy of, but vows to live up to.

Her body rises to meet his, soft and warm, but strong, muscles straining with need as fingers cling and palms caress. She kisses with purpose, stealing his breath as she takes all of him, exhaling as he retreats only to capture as he returns. His name, cried from her lips, has never sounded so pure, so full of importance. Her name, _his Emma_ , he mouths against her breast in heated whispers, along her neck with gentle nibbles.

She takes and he gives only to be given in return. In this, as in all things, they form a perfect partnership. Two hearts, filling to overflowing with each slide of skin, each tremble, each sigh. Flutters turn to pulses and soon he is hers, surrounded by her warmth as she contracts and demands, pulling him with her into her ecstasy. Desperate to prolong, he moves, urging her onward in fear of time. Time is their enemy. Her momentarily pliancy wanes as she joins him in his quest, hands grasping, keeping him deep as she arches her hips.

He breaks and begs, breathing broken pleas for her love, her heart and her soul. Her promises come as she does again, vowing to fight, to love, always _and forever_. Memorizing every inch of her body pressed into the mattress, he reluctantly allows them to rest, calculating where her elbow meets his arm, her knee pressed against his thigh, her center cradling him still. A perfect fit, a puzzle they've completed from broken pieces finally finding their match. Darkness may descend, corrupting her love and warping her soul, but this…this will never change. She is his and he is hers. Together, they are whole.

/

Even now, as he sees her from a distance, black and white, cold and sharp, he is not deterred. For he knows the measure of her, her scent and her taste, his rose hidden but not withered. He must force her through this winter if he ever hopes to welcome her spring.


	5. forever in your arms

_Felt the need to write some post-Underworld comfort and intimacy._ _(a bit spoilery if you haven't been following casting spoilers)_

* * *

He'd seen the sun rise and set from the bow of his ship, an entire day with his eyes on the ocean as melancholy ripped at his salvaged soul and pressed heavy on his heart. Emma was at home, having left her before dawn with a kiss to her cheek (barely reachable from her position burrowed under the covers) and a note on the counter as to his whereabouts. He knew she wouldn't disturb him today, would understand his need for solitude. But as each hour passed alone on his ship, he wished more and more for her to be by his side. The calm he once felt with the rise of the tide now pales in comparison to the press of her cheek against his, the warmth of her somehow filling every shadowy corner of his darkened thoughts.

Night has fallen and led him back home, back to her, where he should have been all along. With limbs heavy with fatigue, he trudges through the door, stopping just inside to lean back against the cool surface and close his eyes. She's there almost in an instant, one arm circling his waist to take his weight while her hand strokes through his hair and pulls his head to her shoulder. Like a boat finally untethered, he sways into her arms, surrendering to her softness, her strength, thankful for both.

"It isn't fair."

He barely gets the words out through the ball of emotion lodged in his throat, anger and regret at having saved Liam and Milah from the Underworld, but not their lives. They're still gone, while a demon like Gold…a villain, like himself, are allowed to walk the earth, be loved, _go on…_

Her lips press against his neck as she whispers, _"I know"_ , into his skin. She knows without him saying more, this not being the first, or the last of days such as this. Minutes, maybe hours pass, swaying there in the doorway in her arms until he feels the strength to move again. Lifting his head, his eyes find hers and she smiles, the pad of her thumb slowly wiping at the tracks of his tears. When her fingers tangle with his to lead him upstairs, he follows silently, willingly.

She undresses him slowly, helping him shrug out of his many layers until he is finally bare to her, emotionally even more than physically. The sheets are cool against his skin, but she's quickly there beside him, her loving nearness warming him from the inside out. Facing each other, their hands linked and held between her breasts, he feels suddenly overcome with need for her, to touch, to ask her body to pull the release he so desperately needs.

His kiss is hard, unyielding, his tongue searching the depths of her mouth as he pulls his hand from hers to grip her hip, hold her still as he molds his overwrought body tight against hers. Already hard and throbbing against her stomach, he gasps against her mouth as she rolls to her back and widens her hips beneath him, welcoming him, urging him forward. Rolling his hips, his cock slides against her and a stuttering breath escapes his lips as he feels her readiness coat his oversensitive skin. He finds her mouth as he pushes inside her warmth, his hand desperately seeking hers as he begins to move above her, within her. As her legs wind around his waist to push him deeper, his last frayed thread of control finally snaps. Unable to continue kissing her and still breathe, he buries his head beside her neck, blind to everything but the tightening of her muscles around his cock and the soft cries of pleasure she breathes against his ear each time their hips slap together. It's all too much and his release comes in pulsing waves, pulling a shout from his lungs as he pumps his hips with the last of his waning strength in desperate hope of not leaving her wanting.

In the minutes after, he barely registers her soft hands cleaning them both with something warm, but reaches blindly for her when he feels her settle back beside him on their bed. He succumbs to sleep with her back against his chest, their hands linked once again between her breasts. His dream is far different from the previous night's, images of him saying another goodbye to his brother are replaced with a brilliant sunset casting oranges and yellows upon an endless sea, a tingling warmth surrounding him from all sides. He doesn't see her, but knows she's there beside him, his purpose for living never more clear. He was spared to be the one to love her, to always be the one who thinks of her first, protect her with everything he has and give her everything she needs.

When he wakes just before sun, his shades of his melancholy have been drawn back and lightness has begun to fill his chest. The reason for this change, his Emma, is still sound asleep in his arms. He wants to make love to her, with more care and attention to her needs than the night before, thank her with his body for giving him a reason to want to live again. Moving his hand lovingly against her skin, he cups the gentle roundness of her breast, softly sliding his fingertips across her nipple until it pebbles beneath his thumb. Still on the edge of sleep, her body begins to move, pushing back against him as his hand seeks the secret warmth between her legs. With gentle firmness, he readies her with his fingertips, slowly circling her clit as his mouth wakes her with soft kisses to the sensitive spot behind her ear. He could play her like this for hours if she would let him, each mewl of her pleasure urging him on, watching her come over and over with just his hand, and his mouth.

Her hand is suddenly covering his, pressing him against her harder, urging his fingers inside as her body fully wakens and her hips begin to move. He leans into her as she continues to ride his hand, his erection straining against the curve of her ass, a delicious torture he will gladly submit to as long as his body will allow. But she has other plans, evident by the lifting of her leg over his hip, her broken cries of "please, now, Killian" barely heard with her head pressed away from him against her pillow. Hearing her overcome with need for him has his heart beating wildly in his chest, and his body moving quickly to comply with her demands.

She gasps at the retreat of his hand, but sighs with pleasure as he angles her hips higher and slides into her from behind, her inner walls already clenching around him as he finds a gentle rhythm. Holding her tight against him with his left arm beneath her waist, his fingers seek her clit, circling and coaxing as the tip of his cock hits that most sensitive part of her again and again. He nearly breaks from her body's response to him, her fingers having reached around to sink into his hair, gripping tightly as her orgasm overtakes her suddenly and she calls out his name. Her body clings and pulls at him, but he continues to move within her as he whispers his love for her against her ear, over and over until he feels her begin to tighten once again around him. She comes a second time and he finally allows himself to fall, his body still vibrating from his release as he pulls from her so he can turn her and kiss her. She's pliant and warm, but her mouth is alive, lips hot and wet against his, meeting his passion in equal measure. Their bodies are slick with sweat and sex, but he clings to her, and she to him, a fit made more perfect with each moment spent in each other's arms. They make love until the sun is high in the sky, their soft murmurs of devotion the perfect welcome to a brand new day.


	6. back from afar to the welcoming shore

_post Underworld, Killian's two loves finally lead him home…_

* * *

He can just barely see the first sliver of dawn breaking on the horizon from the small window, casting the endless waves in brilliant orange and gold. For the first time in months, he finally feels at peace.

Somehow she knew, his savior, his Emma, she understood better than he what was needed, for them both. His ancient ship heaves slightly against a wave and the warmth beside him presses deeper, her bare skin like soft velvet, comforting and arousing in equal measure. Pulling her closer, he rests his lips upon her forehead and welcomes this new morning, their tenth out on the open sea, with a mercifully unburdened heart.

That same heart finds a faster rhythm as she stirs, her fingers around his waist tightening when she lifts her head to blink up at him with a sleepy smile. As her eyes fully open, he waits for the moment when she will see; knowing with her he won't need to explain. It doesn't take long. Her smile changes, not widening, softening, the gold flecks in the green of her eyes sparkling behind the beginning of happy tears.

They both laugh as his hand gets caught briefly beneath the heavy blanket, but soon their mouths are occupied with each other in a languid kiss. Finally free, he seeks the sleep tangled mass of her curls as he urges her further over his now fully aroused body with gentle pressure from his left arm. Far past hiding this part of him from her, his marred wrist settles at the small of her back and holds her tight as he sits up beneath her and pulls her close. A pleasured groan escapes his lips as her legs wrap around his waist, bringing her taught nipples flush with his chest and trapping his erection tortuously between their stomachs.

His need to be buried inside her is overwhelming, but he can't seem to stop kissing her, the taste of her on his tongue far better than the finest rum. Her hips begin to rock her warmth against his length, her readiness coating his sensitive skin with each gentle thrust. In a moment of pure connection, they both move in the same moment to align him at her entrance, her warm hand guiding him as he lifts her hips to welcome him home. Their lips part on a shared heavy breath as he fills her, her hands in his hair gripping tightly as her body adjusts and her magic flickers beneath her skin.

It's hard for him to maintain control when she's like this, all barriers down, showing all of herself to him without fear. All he can do is reciprocate, find a way to express with his body and his words the depth of his love for her and his desire to finally move forward with the life they both want, _need_ , together.

Pressing his forehead against hers, he shifts his hips beneath her and urges her onward as she moves to her knees. Words of love and desire spill from his lips as her body begins to slide over him, each new pass warmer, wetter, increasingly less coordinated. The blunt fingernail of his thumb beings to tease her puckered nipple and her mouth descends, his tongue swallowing her moan as their need for release has their hips colliding with abandon. Sliding his fingertips down the sheen of sweat between her breasts, he delves further down until he finds where they are joined, pressing against her with his thumb until she elicits a broken cry and her body clamps around him in bliss. Her desire for him to fall with her is evident as she lifts her hips again, but he pulls her back down, burying himself to the hilt as his release comes over him in crashing waves.

He's out of breath and energy, but he can't seem to let her go. There's a purity to this moment that overwhelms him, sweat drenched, clinging to one another, heads tucked tight against the other's neck. The pulse of her heart against his beats in agreement. Her hand slides into the hair at his temple, smoothing it back until he lifts his head so he can meet her gaze. Moving his hand to mirror hers, he holds her there with him as he speaks the words he is finally ready to say.

"Let's go home."


	7. intoxicating

_Just a little Friday smutlet, set in future, happier times._

* * *

He walks them towards the first two open stools he sees, but she redirects, steering him to the last in the farthest corner where the music is louder and the shadows darker. There's only one and he begins to protest, but her hands are strong as she pushes him down, her slim body sliding between his open legs as she leans between him and the knotted wood of the bar. The material of her dress is a miracle, so thin he can feel the heat of her skin as his hand wraps around her waist, pulling her closer until his cheeks warm from her breath caressing his lips.

"What'll it be, love?"

A shiver of pleasure rolls down his spine as her thumb begins to trace his jaw, the short nails of her fingertips scratching lightly at the soft skin of his throat.

"I'll have what you're having."

What he wants to be having is her, right here if she'd let him. Peering over her shoulder, he makes eye contact with the brute behind the bar, a former member of his crew swept up in the last curse now spending his nights serving at Storybrooke's only watering hole. Two fingers held high secures a nod, allowing Killian's attention to be redirected back to where it belongs, back to Emma. He has to lift his head slightly to reach her lips, the heels she wore tonight giving her height over him in his seated position, a power she seems to enjoy by the force of her kiss.

He's never told her how much he enjoys her like this, in control, but he's sure she knows as his body's reaction to her is hard to ignore. Her fingers guide his head as she wants it, turning him slightly so their mouths align perfectly and his nose tucks against her cheek as he welcomes the exploration of her tongue. This secluded corner of the bar she chose begins to make sense as her inhibitions melt away with each pass of her lips, each dig of his fingers into the small of her back. The harsh sound of glass against wood breaks them apart, but only far enough for her reach behind her and lift the small tumbler of amber liquid to her lips.

With wide eyes he watches her drain the glass, no sipping for his lady, not tonight. He lets go of her waist to reach for his own drink, but her hand stops his progress, instead molding his fingers back around her even lower than before. Not knowing what she might be up to, he realizes he doesn't much care, not when her eyes are piercing him with emerald tinged desire. One of her hands curls into the hair at the nape of his neck as the other retrieves his rum, the heavy bottom of the glass brushing his nose as she finishes his drink as well.

"None for me, Swan?"

Her eyelashes flutter closed as the alcohol burns her throat and with slightly unsteady hands she pushes the empty glass back on the bar behind her back. The sweet smell of rum fills his nostrils as she leans more fully into his space, her words a sultry whisper against his cheek.

"I saved you a taste."

Without further preamble, she opens her mouth over his, whimpering aloud as he unabashedly sucks the rum from her tongue. There's a tiny part of him that knows they should find somewhere more private, but something deeper, wilder, keeps him where he is, helping her maneuver his thigh between her legs, the fabric of her dress rising high enough that his fingertips feel the satin of her panties as he moves to cup her backside. His desire for her is almost painful confined in his tight jeans, but he refocuses on her, swallowing her pants as she rocks her center against him, her arousal warm and wet against the dark denim. Visions of pushing her back against the bar and spreading her wide, tasting her sweetness as he brings her to completion with his tongue cloud his thoughts and he knows his control is hanging on a perilous thread.

Forever in sync, she chooses that moment to stop her ministrations, her legs shaky as she disentangles herself to step around him with blazing fire in her eyes. Dumbstruck with passion, he watches her hips as she slinks down the back hallway, not sparing him a glance as she knows he will follow.

He's been thankful for her magic before, when saving his life and the lives of those they love, performing acts of beauty and light and everything good. But in this moment, with his cock throbbing inside of her heat and his mouth sucking fervently at her breast, he has never been more thankful for her ability to perform the simple silencing spell allowing her moans to ring out in the dingy stall of the Rabbit Hole's one bathroom. With her back pressed against the dented metal, her legs tight around his waist, he dives into her with abandon, each pull of his hair between her fingers increasing his pace and the strength of his thrusts. Releasing her breast, his mouth finds hers so he can taste the first cry of her release, the tip of his hook piercing the door above their heads as his mercilessly follows. Riding them both slowly through the aftershocks, his kiss turns soft, passion sliding effortlessly into something sweeter, a soul deep love that he still doesn't know how he's managed to deserve. When the need to breathe becomes too strong to ignore, he pulls his lips from hers, but keeps her close, waiting until her eyes flutter open to finally find his voice.

"Emma, you are far more intoxicating than the strongest of rum, and god willing, I will never get my fill of you."

A small gasp escapes his lips as she tightens her inner muscles around where they are still joined, her eyes alight with a mixture of mischief and longing.

"I'm counting on it, pirate."


	8. taking back the time

_A/N: We all know a reunion is coming, so I wrote some post-reunion intimacy. The show won't give these two a moment to breathe, so I decided to._

* * *

It's selfish of her, she knows, to keep him to herself, telling the others that he's back and will see them all tomorrow. She doesn't care, not tonight. Every beat of her newly mended heart tells her that it's okay to be, to take back the time and live each moment they've been given to its fullest. That's why after stopping to grab a change of clothes she practically runs to his ship, barely noticing the concerned townspeople as she goes. She only slows once she's on deck, flicking her wrist behind her to lift the gangplank on board behind her. If anyone wants to get on this ship, they're going to have to jump.

Her feet have only made it halfway down the stairs when she feels his hand take hers, guiding her the rest of the way and straight into his arms. Tears threaten to fall at the first press of his lips, finally a kiss that isn't a goodbye. Opening her mouth against his, she urges the kiss to go deeper, a request he obliges quickly enough with a muffled groan. His fingers tangle in her hair and pull until her ponytail holder snaps free, obviously his intention as he buries his hand further into the newly freed tresses and kisses her even harder.

They both laugh into each others mouths as she tries to keep kissing him as she shrugs out of her coat, but she doesn't want to waste a single second. Finally free, she lays her palms flat on his chest and rests her forehead against his with her lips just out of reach.

"I love you, Killian."

"And I love you, Emma."

Lifting her eyes to his she sees all the love she feels reflected back, maybe more. He's always been one step ahead. The ocean blue of his gaze darkens as her fingers find and slowly release the buttons on his shirt, his skin beneath warm and thrumming with life beneath her touch. As her palm covers his heart, he leans forward to kiss her again. With his heart beating rapidly against her hand and his mouth moving insistently against hers, she finally lets herself believe that they've actually won, that they have more time to love and live, together.

Maybe he senses it too, this newfound time. His kisses slow, but not the passion, guiding them both towards his bunk with measured steps. She shivers as his hook catches and lowers the back zipper of her dress, his lips pressing into the skin of her shoulder as the dress falls away. It's a quiet back and forth after that. Her hands reach out to remove his shirt, waiting for his nod of his approval before moving to unclasp his brace and remove his hook. He lowers to his knees, pressing a kiss to her stomach as he lifts her feet from her boots and slides her stockings down her legs. As his lips trail kisses up her body as he stands, she begins to tremble with need, need to feel the weight of him atop her, within her, to the depths of her soul.

Her knees almost give out as his mouth draws her lace covered nipple between his teeth, her breath coming out in short gasps as his tongue laves against the tip.

"Killian…"

Looking up at her, he gives her breast another gentle suckle, his eyebrow lifting in triumph as an unbidden moan falls from her lips. Sliding her fingers deep into his too long hair, she tugs with gentle force until his mouth is back on hers and she is pressing him back until his legs hit his bunk. With fumbling fingers, she works the button of his jeans open and carefully lowers the zipper over his erect flesh, triumphantly eliciting a moan as her palm makes contact with his oversensitive length.

"Bloody hell, love, I need you."

"I need you, too."

Peppering kisses down his chest, she helps him out of his jeans, leaving her panties and bra in the pile of clothes at their feet. He doesn't hesitate to pull her back close, his nose and lips brushing her temple as he whispers love and reverence against her skin. She feels ready to burst, the hard heat of him everywhere they touch and his soft words so at odds in their perfection. Her armor nowhere to be found, she whispers back, telling him how much she loves him and asks him to take her to his bed.

He doesn't say "as you wish", but his actions speak the words, his strong arms sweeping her off her feet and atop his quilted mattress in heroic fashion. With little room to maneuver, he climbs up from the foot of the bed. Kisses are left along her calves and her knees, in the crease of her thigh and just below her belly button, up between her breasts and to the hollow of her throat. By the time he reaches her mouth, she's already on the verge of release. As his tongue curls around hers his hand begins to map her body, her breast, her ribs, the curve of her hip and finally, her center, his long fingers stroking where she is wet and wanting.

Before she has to ask, he shifts until he's braced above her and closes his eyes as her hand wraps around his length to guide him home. Her hips fall open on a heavy breath as he's fully sheathed, her hands gripping hard at his waist at the delicious stretch of her body accepting the entirety of his love. It's only when his lips press against the corner of her eye to catch her tear does she realize she's crying. As she opens her eyes to look up at him, she sees that he is, too.

As he slowly begins to move within her, she reaches up to place her palm against his cheek, trapping his tears as they continue to fall. Her entire body begins to tingle with magic, centered on and seemingly tethered to Killian. He must feel it too, as her name is falling from his lips like a question as his hips guide her to move with him at a slightly faster pace. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she urges him deeper as her nerve endings begin to spark like tiny fireworks.

"Tell me you can feel this…"

"Aye, love, it's incredible, you're incredible…"

His mouth captures hers in a kiss that dissolves quickly into heavy breaths as they both try to chase that magical edge they know they must find together. And they do, with shared I love you's as the tipping point, and a bliss she's never imagined possible waiting on the other side. It's not a flash of rainbow light or the breaking of a curse, but it's a moment of True Love to be sure.

Pushing his now sweaty hair from his forehead, she waits until his beautiful eyes are smiling down at her to speak.

"Do you think that will happen every time now?"

Her mouth falls open as he doesn't hesitate to grind his hips down against hers and lower his mouth to trace a slow, deliberate line over to her ear.

"Perhaps we should find out?"

It takes her a moment to find her voice, but she manages a response, breathier than she had planned.

"You sure you can handle it?"

His palm reaches between them to cover her breast, slowly kneading and tweaking her still sensitive nipple as his lips draw her earlobe between his teeth. She can already feel him hardening again within her and the pull deep her belly beginning to tug anew.

"Aye, love. Can you?"

This is a challenge she is more than ready to accept.

"Roll over, it's my turn to lead."


	9. commando

_Well, it's Friday, and I enjoy writing smut on Fridays…so, here's a little PWP..._

* * *

"I can't…shit, I hate these things."

Killian's hand cupping her ass beneath her panties squeezes playfully, the addition of which is not helping in her current task in the slightest.

"I hate to disagree, love, I happen to be quite fond of them myself."

In attempt to get him back on track, she rolls her hips downward in a pointed roll atop his already uncovered erection and watches as his eyes flicker shut and his head falls back against the worn leather seat.

"I'd be more fond of _you_ if you'd help me get out of them."

His dark lashes flutter against his cheekbones briefly before his gaze is back on her, finally reflecting the same determination to get her naked she's been dealing with for the last five minutes.

"Up, Swan."

Placing one hand on the seat by his head and the other beneath his open shirt atop his collarbone, she places her feet on the floor of the cruiser on either side of his knees and stands as tall as the cramped space will allow. Just as his hook begins to slide the offending tight denim over her hip, his lips and teeth close over her nipple now perfectly aligned with his mouth. Pleasure shoots along every nerve ending she possesses, as he possesses her with each insistent stroke of his tongue and the cool metal pressing a line against her leg as he guides her foot out of her jeans.

"Hurry…"

His hand makes quick work of the other leg, not wasting another second to remove her panties before hook and hand work in tandem behind her knees to bend her back down atop his lap. The feel of him hot and thick beneath the thin cotton of her panties has her momentarily distracted, her hips moving restlessly as she seeks out his mouth for a kiss. Somewhere in the midst of her wrapping his tongue around her own, his hook finds its way between them and all barriers are finally torn away. It's only after she's sunk down over him and he's fully seated within her does her breath calm down enough for her to find her voice.

"I don't have an unlimited supply of underwear, you know.."

The upward roll of his hips steals her breath again and she anchors her hands around his neck, following the lead of his hand against her waist urging her to rise so he can drag her back down again. Her lips close over his earlobe when it all gets to be too much, the leather beneath her forehead slick from her sweat. The wet drag of him against her walls combined with the deepening timbre of his commands and encouragements spilling from his lips has her tasting blood as she comes, thanks to the back of his earring piercing her tongue. He doesn't give her a moment to feel the pain. Still chasing his release, he holds her hips down tight against his lap in an attempt to reach an even deeper fit, finding the one spot guaranteed to trigger a second release perfectly timed with his own. Releasing his ear from her mouth, she presses herself as close to him as she can as they both come down, not caring in the slightest that they are covered in a thin sheen of sweat and sex.

He kisses her with a sweetness so at odds with the passion still tingling between them, gently tugging her lips between his until they are both smiling against one another's mouths. She looks down at the state of their clothes, his shirt open and pants at mid-thigh, her skinny jeans in a pile at their feet and the waistband of her panties riding up now just below her ribs. His fingers curl around and snap the elastic playfully against her skin, earning him a flick to the top of his pointy ears.

"Why do you think I keep ripping them, darling?"

"I am not going commando, Killian."

"Going what? I was merely suggesting you forego…"

The mix of genuine confusion and salacious flirtation in his expression is too much and she leans back in, mouthing "oh, shut up" against his lips. He does, but not for long.

He really enjoys talking during sex.


	10. the hand I hold

_I have a serious thing for hand holding, and that somehow inspired this domestic smuff..._

* * *

A slight chill creeps along her skin as the t-shirt she grabbed to wear to bed sticks to her spine from her still wet braid. With a quick flick of her fingers the fireplace in the corner flares to life, casting a warm glow across the deep red quilt and the two matching pillows. Her lips curve into an admittedly sappy smile as she hears the sound of the shower curtain being drawn back in the adjoining bathroom and the unknown melody Killian is humming to himself.

Moving closer to the fire, she lets the heat lick up her bare legs, drying the last water droplets her own shower left behind on her smooth skin. Killian, reluctantly, had given her privacy to have a female moment, not intruding on her shower so she could shave her legs and condition her hair without his wandering hands of distraction. Of course, he'd managed to pull her back in with him when his turn came around, not wasting a moment to drop to his knees and slide his tongue along her now baby smooth inner thigh. She'd tried, halfheartedly, to warn him of the not limitless hot water, but soon succumbed to his determination to leave her breathless.

"Ah, a fire, I'm chilled to the bone."

Throwing a chuckle over her shoulder, she holds out her hand in invitation as Killian emerges from the bathroom with just his towel wrapped low on his hips.

"I warned you about the water."

A few drops of water slide down over his nose from his still wet hair as he leaves slick footprints on the hardwood between them. Instead of taking her outstretched hand in hers as expected, he steps into her from behind and wraps his arms around her waist and aligns his newly trimmed stubbly cheek beside her fully moisturized one.

"It was worth it, wouldn't you agree?"

He's wet and cold, but she couldn't care less. She almost lost this, him, forever. Or, to be more accurate, almost never had this at all. As his lips find her favorite spot behind her ear, she pulls the material of her shirt up until his hand takes her silent invitation and splays out on the bare skin beneath, his scarred wrist settling low across her belly. She never imagined she could crave the touch of someone as much as this, but she's addicted to feeling the endless depths of his love press into her skin. With him, she's gone from feeling alone and unwanted to a cherished priority, both unfamiliar and unbelievably arousing.

Tonight, however, she's feeling the urge to do some cherishing of her own.

Reaching both hands behind her, she tugs at the fold of his towel until it drops to their feet. He immediately shuffles closer, his desire obvious at how hard he already is pressed against her backside. His teeth press a bit too sharp against her throat as she rocks purposefully backwards, soon followed by his tongue to soothe the lingering pain. As her hand snakes behind her back and her fingers curl, his mouth opens against her skin on a shaky breath and silent words of encouragement. Hearing his control slip behind her as she strokes harder has her growing restless, desperate to feel more than just his lips sucking hard at her neck. When his hand slides upwards to grip her breast beneath her shirt, she lets out a laugh of relief at just how well he's come to learn what she needs.

"I...Emma...oh bloody hell…"

Turning towards her hand still gripping lightly, she feels the wetness between her thighs grow warmer just at the sight of the near rapture encompassing his features. His eyes open slowly, but close again as she leans in to claim his lips in a seductive kiss. The few steps she has to maneuver him to take backwards are uncoordinated, but she somehow gets him seated on the cushioned bench at the foot of their bed without serious injury. She can feel the smile on his lips as she kisses him again and somehow the moment is just made better, even if her toe is throbbing a bit from kicking the edge of the bed.

Standing to remove her t-shirt, her eyes close as tingles follow the touch of his ring-free hand at her waist to pull her down and onto his lap. Gripping his wet hair beneath her fingertips, she leans his head back to meet her lips, letting her tongue dance with his as his hand eagerly palms her backside. It just takes a quick push of her feet to the ground to give her leverage she needs to lift her hips and with his help finally sink down and make their bodies one. Expelling a deep breath breath as he fills her so completely, his own cry of pleasure signals just how close she had already brought him with her hand.

"Go slow, love, I'm halfway gone for you already…"

Not needing more than the closeness of his body, she rocks her hips in a gentle sway, keeping her lips just brushing his so she can taste each breath he expels as he gives over complete control. From the firm muscles of his thighs flexing beneath her to the soft hairs of his chest brushing her nipples, each touch point sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core.

"So good, Killian, you feel so good."

"You're so wet and I've barely touched you...Emma, I'm…"

He tries to move his hand between them, but she doesn't need that, so she grabs his hand and weaves his fingers between hers instead.

"I love holding your hand, did you know that?"

His blunt wrist drags her hips down as he squeezes her fingers tighter in response, the tip of him hitting that hidden spot deep inside that has her gasping against his lips. Rocking just a bit faster, she keeps hold of his hand as his nose drags against her cheek and his forehead falls to her shoulder on a gravely moan. She can hear his pleas muffled against her skin as his hips rise beneath hers in a rhythm she knows he can't stop. It's all a chase now, and she shows mercy and lets him win. Always her gentleman, he doesn't leave her behind, pushing their joined hands down on the bench beside them so he can change his upward thrust just right to have her clamping down as his release is still pulsing deep.

She's still trying to catch her breath when he brings their joined fingers to his lips, turning them so her mouth brushes against the back of his hand as his does the same to hers. It's a moment full of such quiet intimacy, with their bodies and hearts still so perfectly aligned, that she feels tears begin to push at the corner of her eyes.

"I never plan to let go."

She knows he isn't speaking of their hands.

"I'd despair if you did."

Hearing his words from so long ago parroted back to him has him leaning forward to kiss her with a smile, but she's already laughing and he merely catches her bottom lip between his teeth. In some unspoken challenge, they manage to make it backwards onto the bed without losing grip of each other's hand, a somewhat difficult task with Killian only having one. Sprawling flat on her back, she gladly relinquishes over control, curling her free hand around the headboard as Killian sets out on his favorite journey of mapping her skin with his tongue.

He mumbles something about " _finding his greatest treasure"_ as he buries his head between her thighs and his tongue begins to mark an X back and forth over where's she still so achingly aroused. It's by far the most ridiculous thing he's ever done and she knows he knows it too by the wicked smile she can feel pressed against her skin.

"Did you just...oh fuck it...don't stop…"

As she's quickly beginning to learn, there are some serious benefits to having one's True Love be a 300 year old pirate.


	11. the course of true love

**_Summary: Finally having time to think about all that has occurred and what it all means, Emma has an emotional conversation with Killian about True Love._**

* * *

The face looking back at her in the mirror is a bit unfamiliar, slightly puffy eyes and a slight quiver to her lips both evidence of an emotionally vulnerable Emma she's still giving herself a chance to get to know. Emotions brought to the surface during her session with Archie had to be quickly tamped down again as Cinderella's crisis put _The Savior_ back to work. But now, back home with nothing but quiet and Killian waiting for her in their bed, her heart feels lodged in her throat at the conversation she knows they need to have. **  
**

Stepping out of the bathroom, she snatches up the t-shirt she'd worn this morning as she'd watched Killian curse to himself as he'd tried to get the toaster to cooperate with his high standards of golden brown waffle. She'd stayed at her perch on the stool, sipping her coffee and smiling at his back, not caring in the slightest that he'd gone through an entire box of Eggo's.

"Darling, you know that will just find it's way to the floor, so why even put it on?"

Pleasure courses through her at his gravelly spoken promise, the soft cotton of the t-shirt brushing her tightening nipples as she ignores his request. It's not an easy thing, not when he's sitting with his back against the headboard with those eyes of his staring her down with unveiled interest. She could give in and avoid this conversation if she wanted to and he would be none the wiser. Instead, she takes a steadying breath before moving to the foot of the bed, using the mattress to steady her wobbly knees.

"Can we talk?"

The look in his eyes changes in an instant, desire morphing to concern as he sits up straighter and his hand lifts from the quilt towards her in invitation.

"Of course, love, is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I just…"

She needs to be closer to him, to feel him strong and present beneath her if she's going to get through this. He watches her intently as she crawls up onto the bed and shuffles forward until she can perch herself on his thighs just above his knees, close enough to take his hand, but far enough that she can't just kiss him and allow herself to lose her nerve. His fingers are warm and squeezing tightly as she tangles hers between them and places their now joined hands into her open palm in the space between her legs.

"Emma?"

She doesn't want him to be concerned, so she finds a smile and forces her practiced thoughts from her lips.

"You know I'm bad at this, so, bear with me."

Killian has this thing he does when he can tell she needs encouragement, this slight dip of his head that's a bit like a nod, but more than that somehow. He does it again now, without fail, his eyes so full of warmth she can feel a bit of her nerves settle and her heartbeat begin to slow. He loves her, unconditionally. It's a heady, overwhelming thing sometimes knowing this, but now, it's the just reminder she needs to remember that she can trust him with this.

"This True Love thing, I'm having a bit of trouble coming to terms with it and all that it means…for me, no…for us. When we passed the test, I was happy, so happy, because I thought it meant I could save you. Magic, for once, felt like the answer and I was okay with that. But, I wasn't being honest with myself, or with you, and I'm afraid if I am I will ruin everything."

"Emma, do you love me?"

She can hear no panic in his question and knows immediately where he is going with with it, so she answers truthfully and with the assurance she thinks he needs to hear.

"Yes, with all of my heart."

"Then there is nothing you can say, or feel, that will ever ruin what we have. I need to know what is troubling you, love."

It's not a loss of nerves, but need that has her leaning forward to brush his lips with hers. She pulls back before he can really kiss her back, but lingers long enough for his whispered "I love you" to cut one of the tethers of her barely contained emotions. When she leans back she can feel the first burn of tears at the back of her eyelids, but focuses down at their still joined hands and forces herself to continue.

"I'm not a huge fan of feeling as though my fate is out of my control. It's why it took so long for me to accept my role as The Savior and why what my parents did to Malificent's child, just to keep me from having darkness, felt like such a betrayal. I like knowing my choices matter, even when they are the wrong ones. Finding out that my love for you is part of some big, magical plan, it's left me feeling…angry, or something like that. I don't know…"

She has to stop to let her tears fall and force a breath through her throat that feels as if it's closing in on itself with pent up emotion. Killian fumbles until he can free his hand from hers and she finds herself leaning towards his palm as he cups her cheek and tries to soothe her through her oncoming sobs. His stumped wrist comes out from beneath the covers to settle at her back to try to pull her closer, which she does, balancing her hands against his chest and her forehead against his lips.

"I thought I chose…to love you." Her words are barely audible as she forces them through her tears, but she's somehow managing to get them out so she doesn't stop. "I need it…to be my choice. I don't want it to be cheapened…by magic."

Her cheeks and throat flush with heat at this final confession and she braces herself for his reaction, her fingertips pressing against the heavy rise and fall of his chest. The sudden shifting of his hand to pull her face upwards is the only warning she has before she has her breath stolen by the force of his kiss. Just as she's let forth her emotions, he's doing the same and she reaches forward to grip his neck as she does her best to hang on. As her fingers slide into the back of his hair, his do the same into the base of her messy knot, gently tugging until it falls apart. As her hair falls about her shoulders his lips pull back on a shaky breath, his hand keeping her close as if he isn't sure if he's quite done kissing her.

"You chose to kiss me first, Emma, and every choice we've both made since then, has been our own. In my heart I know this to be true, and I hope you do, too."

"It's what I want to believe…"

He leans his head back from her at that and she can see his look of determination as he locks his slightly watery eyes on hers.

"You know that's not how it works, love. You can't want to believe something, you just have to believe it."

"I know, it's just…magic…"

"Magic is just giving our love power, strengthening it, but not guiding it. Do you think you'd care for me any less if we'd found out our love wasn't True?"

She doesn't even have to think about that question, which as simple as it is, manages to wash away all of her fears all at once.

"No."

"Do you need me to answer that question for you as well, love?"

No, she doesn't.

Shaking her head, she closes the minimal distance between them and kisses the smile from his lips. His response is immediate, his lips slanting hot and open beneath hers as she slides more firmly into his lap in search of more contact, more of him. She needs what comes next, the emotional connection of their bodies becoming one, to lose her breath as she falls apart in his arms. His hand sliding from her hair to the back of her t-shirt has her grinning against his lips and her hands releasing his face so she can help him lift the material over her head. He was right about the t-shirt after all.

He takes advantage of her height when she lifts her hips to pull the covers from his legs to tug her now uncovered nipple between his lips, his tongue working her now puckered tip as pleasure shoots straight down to her core. Her fingers cling to the headboard as her knees threaten to buckle when his lips slide wet and hot across her sternum to lavish attention on her other breast, his mouth unyielding in it's path. She's close to falling apart already, so when she feels his knuckles sliding down her stomach towards her panties, she begins to tremble with anticipation.

He doesn't touch her as expected, instead barely brushing against her as he hooks his fingers around the material to pull it to the side before moving his hand to the side of her hip. His breath is ragged as he releases her breast and she peers down to see him looking up at her with such desperate need that her body acutely aches to fulfill it. Reaching blindly, she finally gets the covers pulled back beneath her and finds him hard and ready beneath her fingertips.

"Emma, let me feel you, please…"

They both cry out as she aligns herself and begins to slide down over his length, but Killian's mouth finds hers again as he fills her completely and they take shallow breaths together between muggy kisses. She loses count of how many times they say "I love you" as their bodies move together, as she kisses the sweat from his brow and he sucks a mark into the hollow of her throat. Her hand finds his on her breast and guides his fingers to where they are joined, urging him to press down as she rises and falls with increased speed. She needs to come, to give release to her body as she has her emotions, to feel her body clamp down and bring him along with her.

At the first flutter of her orgasm she takes him in as deep as possible, fingers clutching the skin of his back as his body beneath her moves upwards to seek further. When she falls, she has nowhere to go but his arms, and he is there to catch her. His release comes with her head buried against his neck, her lips feeling his cry of pleasure vibrate from his throat and into her hair.

Her knees are numb and she's over-warm and covered in sweat, but she doesn't want to be the one to put an end to this perfect moment. By the force of his arms still locked around her, she thinks he must feel the same. His head shifts and she realizes he's pressing kisses into her hair and there's something in that simple act that sets her heart beating at an even faster pace inside of her chest. When his lips find their way to her temple she leans back so she he can see her eyes, not wanting him to miss the conviction behind her next words.

"I chose you."

She smiles at the knowledge of what he will say in return.

"And I, you."


	12. stress relief

_Happy Friday, here's a smutlet…_

* * *

He feels no tremor as her hand slips under the back of his vest and her mouth turns from sweet to sultry beneath his insistent kiss. It's late, late enough that they are unlikely to be disturbed and far too late for her to still be working. He knows her well enough to ascertain why she's here in her office, hiding away from the too quiet of their bedroom back at home. Fraying threads of understanding are what brought him here, intent on reminding her of what they've fought for and the life he longs for her to realize she deserves.

Using his thumb, he urges her chin up so he can slide his lips down along the tiny cleft, slowly working along the edge of her jaw until he finds the soft skin of her throat with his tongue. Her sigh ruffles his hair as he worries his mark just above her collarbone, not knowing fully if he's doing it for her or for himself. He does feel a slight shudder, but this time it isn't her hand, but her abdomen as his knuckles and the backs of his rings slide beneath her shirt up towards her breast. There's a weak protest dripping from her tongue that he swallows just as he pushes beneath the elastic to cup her completely with his palm.

She's not protesting in the slightest now, the only sound the tiny gasps interrupting their kiss with each pass of his calloused fingertips along her erect nipple. He aches to pull the shirt from her body and drop to his knees, but he wants to see her eyes for the next part, needs to see her worries melt from her features if even for the briefest of moments. Pulling back until their lips are merely brushing as they breathe, he watches her eyes as he gives her nipple one last tweak and moves his hand lower to the waistband of her jeans. He'll stop if she asks. She doesn't. Instead, her hand at his back slides down into the pocket of his trousers, urging his body closer as his fingers deftly open the clasp and lower the zipper of her jeans.

She tries to pull his head back in with her other hand so she can kiss him again, but he resists, wanting to feel the heat of her breath expel the moment his fingers slide beneath her panties and into her slick heat. He isn't left disappointed. The heat laced profanity she lets out as his middle finger presses with purpose against her clit is exactly what he was hoping to hear. She goes somewhat slack in his arms almost immediately, prompting him to push her further back into the wall behind the filing cabinet so he can place one knee between her legs just above where his hand is moving beneath her clothes.

His erection is at full mast against her thigh, but he does his best to keep this about her, taking her mouth again for a probing kiss as his palm presses hard against her clit and he seeks her entrance with his fingertips. She's so warm and ready that he slides in easily, slowly stroking until raspy, needy demands begin to whisper from her lips.

This is the moment he has been waiting for, wanting to give her since they were interrupted by that bloody dirigible. Her hand moves from behind his head to grip his brace, her added weight pushing the tip of his hook down into the metal of the cabinet. She doesn't seem to notice the damage or if she does, she's too far gone to care. Turning his hand he curls his fingers as his thumb presses against her clit and he watches as her jaw falls slack and her eyelids begin to flutter shut. She's so close, so wet, and it's torture knowing how good it would feel to shuck his pants and feel her wrap around his cock as she comes. But she needs to know it's okay for things to be just about her sometimes. And this moment, it's all hers.

It's that thought that has him dropping to his knees, knowing he can bring her more pleasure with his tongue than with his thumb. There's little finesse in how he uses his hook to pull her jeans and panties down, but he doesn't want to remove his fingers from their task. He gives himself a brief second to watch his hand moving in and out before diving forward and finally tasting her sweetness against his tongue. Her hands dive at the same time into his hair, pushing his face closer as her hips rock forward against his devouring mouth. She's all desire, all passion, so in need of release he doubts she even cares or realizes how wanton she looks. It's glorious and he'd gladly spend an eternity worshiping her if she would allow it.

Her clit is swollen and slick as he sucks it between his lips, worrying it with his tongue until he feels the first of her spasms wrap tight around his fingers. Flattening his tongue against the tip, he presses down hard as his fingertips curl and slam home, shattering her orgasm to life all around him. Blunt fingernails dig into his scalp as he works her through it, replacing his fingers with his tongue so he can taste the honey sweetness of her release. Eventually she pulls him back by his hair, breathing hard with her head against the wall and her knees slightly shaking beside his shoulders.

He doesn't button her up as he slowly moves his way back up her body, instead dragging her shirt up and over her breast with his hook so he can suck her bra covered nipple between his teeth as he had longed to do before. Keeping his fingertips ghosting between her legs, he looks up at her from his place at her breast to see her looking down at him with such raw, open emotion. His Swan is in hiding no more, at least for this one glorious moment. As he rises to face her she pulls him in for a kiss, not hesitating when the taste of her passes from his tongue to hers. If anything, it seems to intensify the strength of her kiss, which isn't helping him to gain control of his body begging for some relief. His imagination begins to run away from him as visions of her sliding down the wall behind her so she can take his throbbing cock between her lips overtake his thoughts.

Adjusting his stance so he can fit snug between her open thighs, he pins her against the wall to try and push that vision out of mind. Perhaps pressing his erection against where she's still warm wasn't the best option either, but he's running out of options. With her mouth slowing against his he takes this opportunity to pull back, letting his eyes roam over her kiss swollen lips and heavy lidded eyes, a flushed softness having replaced the tight mask he's seen when he's looked at her these past few days. His forehead drops to hers on a groan as her hands grip his buttocks and drag him further towards her and he lets out a chuckle of restrained frustration.

"Emma, you are making it quite difficult for me to keep this moment just about you, love."

"I don't know, you've done a pretty good job of it so far."

"Aye, but if you keep touching me like that, I can't promise…"

"What if I want it be about us?"

Opening his eyes, he lifts his head so he can see her clearly, wondering as to the new emotion he can hear in her words. Even as her hands begin to work at the buckle at his waist, he keeps his eyes locked to hers.

"I think, that maybe, you and I are so used to being alone and we…might need more practice in achieving our goals together, as partners."

The weight behind her words hits him fully, despite the flirtatious tone she has chosen to speak them through. And he wants to press her further, but he's still a man, and her strong fingers have found the swollen head of his cock.

"And what goal do you have in mind, my love?"

She doesn't answer. He doesn't need to ask again. After pushing his pants to his knees, her hands grip his shoulders as he lifts her to wrap her legs around his waist. She's still so wet and slick that his cock slides past her entrance to rub against her clit, drawing a gasp from her he aims to hear again. Rocking his hips, he tortures himself to the point of delirium until he can take it no longer. Lifting her thighs, he sinks in deep in a single, hurried thrust. He has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from coming immediately, the metallic taste of blood a temporary distraction as she urges him to move with heated words and the tightening of her ankles around his thighs.

Her body is already beginning to clamp down as he pistons carefully, his hand at her hip gripping tight as her cries of beg his body to move faster. Shoving his brace beneath her hips, he reaches for his hook so he can unlatch it and let it drop to the floor, not wanting to hurt her as he slams his hips hard into the cradle of her thighs. One of her hands slides from around his neck to grab hold of his necklace, pulling him forward so she can take his mouth in a kiss. He comes with her tongue deep in his mouth and her hand crushed between his chest and her breasts, undoubtedly leaving a mark in the shape of his charms deep in her palm. Her pulsing release prolongs his own, milking every last ounce of his desire from his body into hers.

It's only after they've crumpled to the floor in a heap of half worn clothes and sated bliss does he find his voice enough to admit defeat.

"Us…aye…something we should definitely take time practicing, as often as possible."

"But maybe not in my office next time?"

"Emma, love, if I've learned anything in this long life of mine, it's to take the moments whenever and wherever they happen to be presented."

As if on cue, Emma's cell phone rings on her desk as his begins to vibrate in the pocket of his jacket. It's a bit of an awkward shuffle to get up from the floor, but thanks to Emma's magic they are both cleaned up and redressed in mere moments. As she begins to speak to her father on her phone, he answers the call from Henry on his. They share a knowing smile as she reaches out to trace the hole his hook left in the filing cabinet while their loved ones fill them in on the latest crisis.


	13. I know

_Because Emma running her hands through the back of Killian's hair made me emotional… (spoilers ahead)_

* * *

"Killian, did you hear me?"

In all honesty, no. She has no idea how deeply her touch affects him, especially in moments like this when her hand just reaches for him as she's focused on other things. The feel of her fingers scratching lightly at the back of his head as she talks to Henry on the phone has left him in a stomach swirling mess of emotions. The world could be crashing around them right now and he would be none the wiser.

"Sorry, love, I did not."

He turns his head only halfway towards her, too afraid if he moves too much she'll drop her hand. She doesn't and he takes in a somewhat shaky breath of relief.

"Regina was able to set up the spell. She'll be alerted if anyone tries to board the Jolly Roger while you're gone."

"I'm relieved to hear it."

He truly is. Knowing Belle will be safe on his ship alone indeed loosens his worry from its well tied knot. Thinking of the unlikely friendship he's forged with the librarian, however, only manages to fray the tether of his emotions further. He feels as if he's placed one foot onto the page of his happy ending and he's realizing there isn't an author setting the course of his tale. Taking that second step is his choice to make.

Turning his head fully towards her, he lets his eyes wander over the face of the woman who has given him new life. From her slightly mussed hair to her sleepy eyes, down to her upturned lips and the constellations of freckles peeking through the blush of her cheeks, he's sure there has never been a more beautiful sight in all the realms. He wants to speak, but her fingers begin to move again right behind his ear and he's lost.

He kisses her instead. He kisses her until they are both breathless, foreheads taking over the contact from their lips as his hand urges her to move astride his lap. She takes his lips again as soon as she's settled, both of her hands now cupping his cheeks as her sweet mouth destroys him piece by piece. Her kiss is sweet, slow, giving him the softness she only shares when her walls have truly crumbled and she's ready to welcome him in.

It hits him then, that it isn't a final step in his story that needs to be taken, but another step into theirs. She's taken one already, asking him to move in with her here, in this house he chose for them both amidst the darkness of the past. It's on him to bring this new chapter into the light.

Opening his eyes, he nudges his nose against hers until she does the same and he can ground himself in her loving gaze. He wonders sometimes if she knows how she looks at him, if she realizes how cherished she makes him feel?

Perhaps it is time he tells her as much…

"You overwhelm me, Emma Swan."

The look of bewilderment that takes over her features at that declaration is utterly adorable.

"What?"

Lifting his hand to mirror her hold on his face the best he can, he thumbs lightly at the soft skin covering her cheekbone and lets his eyes fall again to her lips. The lower lip he'd just traced with his tongue is now caught between her teeth in a nervous gesture he can't help but find completely endearing. Sliding his hand down her cheek to her chin, he pushes gently down until her lip is released and he can trace it with the pad of his thumb.

"I said once that I'm a fan of every part of you, do you remember?"

She doesn't speak, but the slight nod of her head has his thumb pressing further between her lips and well, it's just about the most torturous thing he's ever had to endure. Aroused is not a complex enough of a word to describe how his body is reacting to the tip of her tongue tracing the edge of his fingernail with obvious intent.

"What I meant back then, Emma, was I love every part of you…"

He almost cries in protest as she releases his thumb from her mouth, but he's rendered speechless as her hand covers his over her cheek.

"I know, I mean, I knew that…"

Her follows her eyes to their hands and watches as she maneuvers his fingers through hers before her other hand searches behind her back to grab at the curve of his hook. Heat flushes his neck as he anticipates what he thinks may come next. As she arranges one hook and three hands in the space between his stomach and her thighs he can't hold back the tear from falling upon his cheek. She hasn't noticed it yet, but he knows she will. The last tears she witnessed from him were shed out of despair, but these are born of love, and he wants her to see them.

"I love every part of you, too."

 _I know._

Her eyes shoot to his and he realizes he's spoken that thought aloud. So he says it again

"I know, Emma. You make me feel so loved it steals my breath sometimes. I vow to spend the rest of my life honorably in hopes of one day deserving you."

"You already do."

Her mouth finds his before he can disagree. The hands trapped between them work together to free buttons and pull at fabric until his shirt is open wide and she is bare from the waist up. He's not sure if it's her sob or his he hears as the soft swells of her breasts crush against his chest. It's everything and not enough, but his arms just hold her tighter as her lips ghost over the tear tracks along his cheek. If he tastes the salt on her tongue as he takes her mouth again, it's merely a trace.

They should move upstairs, make use of the bed that will now be called theirs. But he can't stop kissing her and she's already fumbling with the fastenings of his belt and he knows the course of this moment has already been set. Like a ship at the mercy of the tradewinds, he succumbs to her searching hands and urgent whispers without a single ounce of protest. The blanket of the couch becomes their mattress as they make love in front of a crackling fire he has no memory of having lit. Hours pass as they take the time that had being stolen, tasting, teasing, and eventually tiring as the last few embers spark and the fire sputters out. It only takes a quick flick of her wrist for the fire to blaze anew. He doesn't remark at the absence of the shake in her fingers as she works her magic with ease, sensing now is not the time to broach that particular subject.

In the renewed warmth of the fire she allows him to bathe her with a dampened cloth from their kitchen, leaving a light sheen of moisture along her skin that glitters and glows from the flames in the hearth. The cloth is forgotten as his mouth traces the light up her abdomen and between her breasts, until his fatigue wins over and he molds himself against her with his temple just over her heart. The last thing he registers before falling into slumber is the loving caress of her fingertips once again running through the hair at the back of his head.


	14. morning after hair

_Domestic smut prompt: "morning after" hair_

* * *

Her hot chocolate ripples slightly from the breath she releases from her nose as she holds the mug against her lips, the chipped porcelain hiding her growing smile as she lets her gaze roam over the man in her…no... _their_ kitchen. Faint fingernail scratches are still visible along the planes of his back and her body flushes at the reminder of just how she put them there. If he would only turn around she could see if his sweatpants are riding low enough to hide another mark, this one in the curve of his hip she tortured onto him before heeding his pleas to direct her mouth elsewhere.

It's when her eyes land on the tufts sticking out in all angles in the back of his hair that she has to set her mug down entirely, the hot liquid sloshing a bit as it hits the wood by her plate. Visions of those strands twisting between her fingers as Killian worshiped her with his tongue swim to the surface of her mind and she has to wiggle in her seat to ease the growing ache at the memory. She should have known that the sight of him between her legs would be her undoing, with those bedroom eyes looking up at her as he drove her to the very edge and back again.

"Something on your mind, darling?"

For a brief moment she considers deflecting his flirty banter, but quickly remembers that she doesn't have to anymore.

Rising to her feet, she crosses the few steps between them until she's close enough to pluck the piece of bacon from his fingers and slide it between her lips. She watches as his eyes focus down on her mouth, the kohl from the previous day now adorably smudged across his eyelids and onto his temples. She mentally adds evening makeup removal to the growing list of things to teach her new live-in pirate.

Right now, she has other things on her mind. After popping the last of the bacon into her mouth, she makes a move to suck the salty grease from her fingers, but he beats her to the punch. With a quick duck of his head and a gentle grip of her wrist, she finds the tips of her fingers being treated to all the acrobatics he'd put on display last night with that very talented tongue. With his eyes hot on hers she leans further into his body, finding that same spot on his hip with her thumb before dipping her hand even further down. It's a bit of an uncoordinated tangle after that, with his hand releasing her wrist so he can grab at her waist and her wet fingers barely freeing his mouth as she moves in to suck on his lower lip.

By the time they've caught their breath, his sweatpants are at his ankles and he's softening again between her thighs, which are nestled haphazardly between the toaster and sink (where her sleep shirt is now clogging the drain). His hair is once again crumpled between her fingers and hers has tumbled almost completely out of the topknot she'd shoved it in to come downstairs for breakfast. A giggle escapes her throat when he lifts his head and she can see a slight line from where he'd pressed his forehead against the edge of the counter as they'd finally christened the kitchen with their sloppy lovemaking. Releasing his hair, she shifts her hands to the side of his head so she can run her thumb along his creased skin as he looks at her with the sweetest of sated smiles.

"You."

"Pardon?"

"You asked me what was on my mind."

"Ah, I see. I wasn't sure if it was my dashing self or the bacon."

"Okay, maybe a little of both."


	15. get a room

Warmth seems to be radiating everywhere, from her fingertips into the leather of his brace and the side of her thigh practically hitched over his knee beneath the booth, to the spicy drag of his rum he's been tipping into their half empty mugs of hot chocolate. There's a prevailing weightless feeling settling between them as they somehow find themselves in an unfamiliar unburdened moment. Henry and Violet have long left the diner on a date of their own, leaving just the her and Killian, tucked in a quiet corner where, miraculously...no one needs them for _anything_.

They could go home and really take advantage, but she's terrified to jinx it. When his arm between them lifts so he can tuck her into his side, she somehow knows he must feel the same. Dipping a finger into his mug, she scoops some whipped cream from the side and almost has it in her mouth before his reflexes kick in she finds her wrist caught in his grip. Feeling playful and content she just laughs as he brings her finger to his own mouth and swipes the cream with a slightly pornographic curl of his tongue. Her belly swoops low at the heat hiding behind his mirth and she's suddenly feeling less and less superstitious.

They should _really_ just go home.

But his hand finds her knee beneath the table and gives it a tug, pulling her leg fully over his so he can slide his fingers up along her thigh. She can't let him take this too far, but she's not against some less than innocent almost groping as long as Granny's back in the kitchen and out of sight. His charms find their way between her fingers as she grazes the skin from his open shirt with her knuckles, not content to let this be a one player only game. His knuckles, however, have found a much more devious path of their own. As he presses down against the zipper of her jeans she gives his necklace a tug, bringing his lips down until she has them just a breath away from her own.

"I think it's time we pay the check, wouldn't you agree?"

"I don't know, love, I'm not quite finished…"

"Oh, I'd say you're just getting started, wouldn't…"

A loud slap of something metal hitting laminate has him pulling back too fast, forgetting her fingers in his charms as the silver digs into his neck and her fingertips in turn.

"Oh, bloody hell!"

Granny is standing over his shoulder with one hand on her hip and her other directing their attention to the brass key she's just tossed onto the edge of the table.

"I got you a room. Now scram!"

Suddenly mortified, Emma tries to think of something to say, but realizes there isn't anything capable of expressing what's happening in her brain. Thankfully, Killian is faster. In a move reminiscent of his flamboyant swordplay, he has her whisked up and out of the booth and halfway up the back stairs as she laughs at the smacking kiss he somehow managed to plant on Granny's cheek as he twirled and maneuvered.

They can't do this, can they? The determination of Killian's stride and the firm grip of his hand holding hers tells her he thinks they can, and that he has decided - in his mind at least - that they most definitely _are_. As he finds the door matching the key, he turns and fixes her with a look that almost has her stumbling over her own feet. There's still humor there and excitement, but more than that she sees devotion, happiness and desire and love all wrapped up in a slightly crooked smile and an upturned eyebrow.

They are so doing this.

A bit of tipsy wrestling over the key quickly turns to heated groping against the door. With his hand now lowering her zipper and hers tugging at his vest buttons, the key ends up somewhere lost at their feet. Between sloppy kisses he breathes something about her magic, but she doesn't immediately comprehend, not with his fingers rubbing with purpose over her panties and his belt buckle finally sliding open between hers. He says it again, this time right into her ear before closing his lips around her earlobe and she finally gets with the program. A quick flick of her wrist has them stumbling through the door, which he kicks shut behind them as he catches her about the waist and drags her back to his mouth.

That warmth from before is now an inferno, burning hotter with each pass of his tongue and every brush of skin against skin as fingers push and pull at clothes with purpose, but no finesse. His patience breaks first. She's just freed her ponytail from her sweater when she finds herself on her back on the mattress with his hand and hook pulling her legs toward the edge. Still trying to catch her breath from the fall she's not prepared to help as he struggles to remove her skintight jeans. Happiness bubbles up from deep in her chest at his grunt of annoyance as he looks up to see her just leaning back on her elbows watching him do all the work.

"The fashions of your realm do wonders for your womanly figure, my love, but they are bloody annoying to divest you of…"

"Don't even get me started on your leather pants."

His eyebrows waggle at that and she gives another flick of her wrist, leaving them both bare of anything but the smiles on their faces.

"I love your magic, Swan."

She's overcome with many things at once, at his words and his tongue, which he has settled without ceremony between her thighs. Weaving her fingers into his hair, she lifts her hips towards his mouth and lets her head fall back as _his_ magic washes her away. He somehow knows exactly what she needs, bringing her just to the brink of breaking before sliding them both up the bed so he can fill her, surround her, at first leading and then following her right over the edge. She isn't ready to let go, so she wraps her legs around his waist and holds his face against hers, sharing his breath, nipping at his lips, whispering secrets with the tip of her tongue. As he begins to harden again inside her she rolls them over, waiting until he's slipped free to urge him to sit so she can sit astride his lap.

Uncaring if either of them can peak again, she just wants to make this moment last. As he lifts her hips so she can take him back inside, she knows he does do. With foreheads pressed tight, he urges her to move, slowly, just a gentle rocking of her hips giving him the friction he needs to come back to full strength. She knows he's ready as his head turns and he begins to kiss her again, his hand tangling in the hair at the nape of her neck as his blunted wrist comes around to hold her steady at her back. Like a lovers waltz, he guides her as they begin to dance. It's a long one, leaving them both sweaty and dizzy and wrapped in a pleasure drenched pretzel of tangled limbs.

Unsure if either of them have the strength or the will to move, she summons the last of her energy for a complicated bit of magic. As she falls asleep in her own bed with the man she loves pressed tight against her back, she can only hope that her spell was a complete success.

* * *

Later that night as Granny does her sweep of the rooms, she finds the key in the lock of room number 2 with a note hanging off the brass head.

 _Granny, we owe you one._

"Oh Emma, if my ears didn't deceive me, you owe me _two_."


	16. there's beauty in the breakdown

_future fic set immediately after Emma's return from the wish realm… (rated M)_

* * *

There's a storm coming. He watched the first cloud roll in when her eyes took in only one of her parents in the small crowd of welcome, a poignant reminder of battles still not won. His palm had felt the stiffness of her spine as he walked with her towards her car, a swirl of emotions on full display behind the tightness of her smile. And now, her hand, with knuckles still white from her grip on the steering wheel, moves deliberately from his reach as she leads them into their home. It feels a bit traitorous to find beauty in her rage, but he can't deny his body's reaction to her inner fire just waiting to break free.

Pausing inside the door to shrug off his jacket and toe of his boots, he watches as her coat lands on the back of the sofa and her shoes litter the wooden floor at the base of the stairs. As he passes them both his fingers itch to move them to their rightful place, but he, in all honestly, is fearful of her wrath if she were to see him cleaning up after her in this moment. Lengthening his stride to take the stairs two at a time, he finds her in their bedroom closet already ripping at the buttons of her shirt.

"Emma…"

She doesn't respond as her patience with her shirt buttons reaches an end and the offending garment is ripped over her head and tossed on the floor next to the hamper.

"Don't you dare pick that up."

"Wouldn't dream of it, love."

Leaning against the door frame he waits, ready to anchor her again once she's let the waves of her anger break free. And break free it does…

"I don't think I can take much more of this bullshit! You and me, we've spent more time apart in our relationship than we've been together. Separated by fucking realms! My parents, the epitome of _True Love_ , can't be awake at the same time thanks to a sadistic sleeping curse! Robin's dead. Obliterated. What's stopping the same thing from happening to you? Or Henry? Or my parents? What the fuck are we fighting for?"

His entire body aches with the need to walk forward and fold her into his arms, but he knows, he can see it in how she won't meet his eyes that she's not quite done. He can hear her mumbling under her breath as she leans down so she can shuck her jeans and drop them atop her shirt.

"Aren't you tired, Killian? Tired of the constant barrage of villains, one of us always facing death, not having two days in a row where we actually get to sleep in the same damn bed? Cause I am. I'm fucking exhausted."

Her chin lifts and she meets his eyes for the first time since arriving back from that bloody wish realm hours earlier.

"Aren't fairy tales supposed to have a happily ever after?"

She's in his arms before he even registers that he'd made the decision to move. Careful to keep his hook from her exposed skin, he winds his arm further until she's so tight against him he can barely breathe. The depth of her frustration can be felt in the grip her fingers have around the back of his vest and the erratic beat of her heart against his chest.

He wants to find the words to soothe her, but she's just voiced the same thoughts that had settled and soured in his stomach every day she'd been gone. The battle that has been their lives, even before they met, feels unbearably endless. It's hard to keep fighting when the one thing keeping you standing keeps getting ripped from your bloody fingertips.

But she's here now. Warm, alive, her breath dampening the hollow of his throat and her skin raised in goosebumps beneath his palm as he slides his hand up along her spine. He loves her too much to say the wrong thing in this moment that feels too fragile, too raw. When he feels her mouth open along the skin of his throat, he nearly shudders in relief at how well in tune they always seem to be. As her lips move up towards his jaw he lowers his head to capture her mouth, his hand along her spine moving to her neck to steady her for the intensity of his kiss. Her breath lets out in a relieved huff against his lips as her body shifts against him, her legs shuffling until he can feel the heat of her pressed against his thigh.

As his tongue seeks the sweet depths beyond her lips, she works her hands between them to begin the arduous task of freeing him from his too many buttons. He wants to help, but he can't seem to stop himself from pushing at the small of her back in gentle urges for her to rock against this thigh. When she does, her task is lost as fingers clench the fabric of his waistcoat and his name breaks their kiss on a sigh. Leaving his hooked arm around her waist, he runs his fingers down her back and around her hip, watching her eyes darken as he turns his palm flat against her belly. Her fingers move from his back to begin to shakily work on opening his belt as his delve into the slick desire between her thighs.

He isn't overly gentle, thumbing at her clit without restraint as her hands tear his belt free and slide into the back of his pants to curve around his ass. Her hips are moving with earnest against his hand as her mouth comes to rest along his, not kissing, just panting harsh breaths against his lips. She's close, he can tell, and selfishly, he wants more.

Her whole body cants forward as he removes his hand from her panties and he has to grip hard at her waist to keep her steady on her feet. She's pliant with need and doesn't protest as he bends to lift her in his arms and carry her the short distance to their bed. Her mouth his warm and active against his as he lowers her to the mattress, blunt fingernails digging into his scalp as he tries to lift his head so he can divest himself of his clothes.

"Patience, my love."

"All out of that at the moment."

Lifting his head as he strips himself bare, he watches as she rips her bra from her shoulders and lies flat to shimmy her panties down her legs. Flickers of her earlier anger is evident in her movements, but when she meets the desire evident in his gaze he's thankful to see her lips curl up into a smile. He's on her in an instant, his body aligning with hers from lips to toes. Their kiss is deep, full of all of the longing he felt for her during every second she was away, her desperation for him just as evident as she moans against his probing tongue.

He groans with pleasure against her lips as her hand snakes between them to grip his painfully hard cock to guide him between her thighs, the first touch of her silky warmth nearly bringing him to an early release. But then her hands are framing his face, holding him in her gaze as her hips lift and he slowly buries himself to the hilt. He mirrors her as best he can, resting his weight on his elbow as his hand curls around the back of her head, fighting to keep his eyes on hers as her body clenches around him in response.

"I love you, Killian, so much."

Those words break the last shred of his control. Surging forward, he takes her lips as he thrusts down hard with his hips, dragging his teeth against her bottom lip as her neck arches up in pleasure. He's wants so many things, but most of all, he desperately needs to see more of her.

"Wrap your legs around me, love…."

As soon as she does he rolls them until he's on his back, his hands holding her hips close as she looks down at him in surprise. It doesn't take her long to start to move, her hands pressing down hard against his chest as her knees settle into the mattress by his waist. Reaching towards her with his blunted wrist, she leans down so he can wrap his arm around her waist as her hips continue their sensual dance. Unable to keep his eyes off of her body as it moves, he reaches up to cup her breast with his palm, seeking the taut nipple with the edge of his fingernail as he's learned she enjoys.

As expected, her eyes flutter shut and her forehead lowers to meet his, her breath now coming in quick gasps against his lips.

"I love you, too, Emma. Every piece of me is yours. Please don't stop fighting for us."

He hadn't meant to say so much, but his heart is in his throat and he doesn't have the strength it takes to keep the raw truth of his words inside and keep himself from falling apart at the same time.

"I…oh god…"

Whatever she was going to say is cut off as her orgasm has her knees clamping around his waist and her head falling to the pillow by his neck. He angles his hips up to bury his cock deep and fill her with his seemingly endless release. Completely boneless and feeling emotionally drained, he welcomes her body as it stretches over his, long limbs wrapping around him as he turns his head on the pillow in search of her lips.

She stops him with a finger to his mouth and he sends her a sleepy, but still questioning look.

"I'll never stop fighting for us, Killian. I promise"

Her finger is replaced by her lips as she seals her declaration with a firm kiss. He's just beginning to find the strength to reciprocate when she pulls back again on a huff.

"But seriously, you and me, we're going on a vacation."


	17. moments unforgettable

She's humming to herself as she scrubs at the remnants of cinnamon stuck in the depths of her mug and doesn't hear him approach from behind, his bare feet making little sound on the hardwood as he cages her in with his arms. He chuckles at her flinch and she flicks the water from her fingers over her shoulder in retaliation.

"Sorry, love, didn't mean to startle you."

"Yes you did."

He doesn't respond, instead seeking the soft skin behind her ear with his slightly wet nose, his lips pressing a smile along her neck when he feels her responsive shiver.

"I was getting lonely."

"I've only been over here for a few minutes…"

Who is she kidding? The way their lives are, a few minutes might be all they have before someone comes crashing through their door with a problem that just must be solved.

The grumble he mumbles against her skin sounds like an agreement to her unspoken thought.

Setting the still soapy mug in the base of the sink, she wipes her hands off on the dishtowel and bumps back with her hips until he gives her room to turn around. His arms reach up beneath her flannel pajama top at her waist, warm palm and blunted wrist dragging her forward until she's crushed against his chest. Swirls of dark hair tickle her fingertips as she slides her hands up towards his neck, his appreciative groan vibrating from his lips as he captures her mouth in a hungry kiss.

Killian is affectionate often, but never more than in the morning, both of them still rumpled from sleep. His ringless fingers constantly reach for bare skin, or tangles of her hair, or on mornings where he doesn't let her leave their bed, find home between her legs. The scene playing out now, with her fingers buried in his hair as he leads them towards the couch, it's one she knows well from the many times it's been repeated. He doesn't know this, but it's her favorite.

Just like the times before, she finds herself on her back with his hand working the buttons free between her breasts as his hips settle perfectly into the cradle of her thighs. She knows the rest of their clothes will just be pushed aside, his hunger and her impatience a perfect match in their early morning lovemaking. His mouth finds her breast as her shirt falls open at her sides and her hand circles his cock as she wrestles his pajama pants down his hips.

Teeth close over her nipple as she pulls the cotton between her thighs to the side and the tip of him slides into her warmth. As soon as he's guided where she needs him, she quickly moves her hands to cup his cheeks as his head lifts from her breast and he sinks deep.

"I love you."

"Oh Emma, I love you, too."

This, the slow glide of his hips as she holds his face above her, _this_ is why this particular scene is her favorite. The size of the couch gives no room for him to really move, keeping him close, the ginger hairs of his beard coarse beneath her fingers and every breath he expels heating her already overwarm face. It's impossibly intimate and exactly the opposite of anything she's ever wanted before. Before him, before loving him and feeling the overwhelming and intoxicating love he feels for her in return. Now, she can't get enough. The way his mouth falls open when she lifts her hips to meet his downward thrust, or how his eyelashes flutter against his cheekbones when she whispers his name, it's addictive and sometimes feels like the only thing keeping her grounded.

His head falls to couch beside her neck as he works them both towards their release, his lips breathing "I love you, I love you" over and over until she cries out and he follows her into oblivion. She urges his head back up so she can kiss him and he obliges, his tongue moving lazily against hers as if they have all the time in the world to stretch this moment out. God, she wishes that they could.

Pulling back her lips, she rakes her hand up through the hair falling over his forehead and looks up at him with a regretful smile.

"We should probably get dressed."

He shifts slightly on his arm above her, bringing their still connected bodies into new alignment and triggering a tiny aftershock deep between her thighs. She sighs and he sinks deeper, the sated length of him showing signs of renewed life.

"No need, love. I asked David to give us a day off. Only a world ending crisis will find us disturbed."

Momentary shock is soon replaced by other ideas as his mouth finds the edge of her jaw, soft kisses turning into gentle bites as he makes his way towards her ear. He doesn't quite get there before she's pushing her hands against his shoulders and he's moving up and off her with a look of utter confusion.

"What is it, Swan?"

She ignores his question as she stands, but keeps her eyes on him as she lets her shirt drop from her shoulders to the floor. His now heavy lidded-eyes fall to her hands as she slides her hands down her legs, bringing her underwear with them until she's standing bare beside where he's now sitting on the couch. When he goes to reach for her, she bats his hands away, instead grabbing at his pants until they end up on floor next to her shirt.

He's practically panting against her lips as she wraps her hands around his neck, her long legs balanced on either side of his hips and her breasts aching with pleasure against the soft hair of his chest. She follows the urging of his hand against her ass to slide her center over his hardening cock, her body already clenching in anticipation.

"It's my turn to be on top."


	18. just let the waves guide us (spoilers!)

_Just some post wedding intimacy on the Jolly Roger, because I just couldn't help myself and I woke up with a much needed desire to write…_

* * *

His dream is like a wave, cresting and crashing as it heads towards the shore, sand and shells churning in its wake but never quite hitting the beach before it recedes. When he wakes, frustration still bubbles at the edges of his consciousness as his fingers dig into the mattress beside him where his new bride should be. He blinks his eyes to adjust to the darkness, the candles he'd scattered around the room after their nuptials now all pools of hardened wax. Pushing back the coverlet, he crosses to an old trunk and pulls out a pair of old linen pants, not wanting to go in search of Emma in his current state of undress.

He finds her quite easily, but allows himself a moment to take her in. The complicated braid she'd worn earlier has fallen loose, allowing golden tendrils to dance in the breeze along with the worn fabric of his sheet she's wrapped around her like a cloak. She could be mistaken for a spectral, or an angel, some benevolent spirit come to grant his every wish and guarantee a lifetime of happiness.

But something has drawn her from his bed on their wedding night and he aches to soothe whatever might be troubling her mind. So, he crosses to her quietly, making enough noise to be certain she hears his approach. She turns with a smile as he draws near enough to touch, easing a bit of his nerves as he draws his hand around her waist and presses a kiss to her temple.

"Hello, my wife."

"Hello, my husband."

The tenor of her response sounds just as soft and content as it had hours before, when she'd clutched his hand beside her head on the pillow as their bodies came together in the most sacred of joining. Whatever has brought her out here this night does not seem to be about him.

"I can just barely see the lights of town from here."

Humming against her hair in response, he steps a bit closer, wrapping his arms around her tight as her head falls back against his shoulder. He gets lost in his own happiness for a moment as her hand weaves through his where it rests on her belly and they begin to sway in unison with the rocking of his ship.

"We'd know if anything was wrong, right?"

A brief breeze of sadness chills him at her words, knowing now it is her constant duty as Savior that has her here staring out at Storybrooke in the distance.

"I am confident everything is well, but we can call your father if it would ease your mind, love."

Her head shifts slightly against him as she shakes it to say no and he gives her fingers a squeeze in response. She lets go at that, the sheet around her getting tangled as she begins to turn in his arms. By the time she's tucked her cheek against his chest they are skin to skin, the peaks of her breasts chilled and taut against his ribs. Catching the sheet before it falls from her shoulders, he gathers it around them both, his need to keep her warm warring with his desire to see the alabaster perfection of her skin alight with the glow of the waning moon.

The mere thought of that has him thickening against her thigh and he tries to steer his mind back to the present, but then she shifts closer and he feels the slightest brush of her lips against his collarbone. Dipping his head with eyes closed, he just knows she will meet him halfway and sighs against the warmth of her mouth as she does. Still caught in his somewhat lustful haze, he kisses her with unrestrained passion, tasting and worshiping her lips as he guides her back against the side of his ship.

Not making an attempt to tamp down his desire, he's at full mast now, with her hands gripping at his buttocks beneath his thin pants and her legs widening in what feels like an unspoken welcome. She may be his wife, but that doesn't guarantee free liberties without her clear consent.

Pulling back from her mouth just enough to allow his lips to form words, he sucks in a much needed breath and loosens his fingers' grip on the sheet at her waist.

"May I make love to you, my Emma, my dearest love…"

Breathing _"oh yes"_ against his lips, she moves her hands to grip the waistband of his trousers and within moments he is sliding into her warmth as his arms guide her legs around his waist. She cries out as he fills her completely, one of her hands gripping hard at his hip as the other scrambles to hold the side of his ship for balance.

"I've got you, love, _always_ …just let the waves guide us for a moment…"

Her eyes flutter open at that, watching him as the boat sways, each gentle roll shifting their bodies and setting off tiny sparks of pleasure where they are joined.

"I love you, Killian, so much."

He has to kiss her at that, so he does, tasting the gasp from her lips as he pulls out and slides back home, letting the rocking of the ship guide each deep thrust of his hips. She continues to kiss him until her head falls back on a breathy sigh, the hand that was at his hip moving to mirror her other one on the railing until her body is stretched out before him like the most bountiful of treasures. Plunging deeper between her thighs, he steadies her as best he can with his legs and hand as the movements of her body in the moonlight set him ablaze. He can feel himself reaching an unstoppable crest from just the sight of her before him and he knows she will need more if she's to fall along with him. That's how he finds himself positioning his marred wrist atop where they are joined, letting his once deemed useless limb bring her the pressure she needs to find her bliss. She doesn't open her eyes in surprise or revulsion, instead pressing her hips up towards his scarred skin in search of more, which he gives without second thought.

"I'm coming, god…don't stop…"

He can feel it, see it, in the inner muscles clamping down and the deep flush making her dewy skin glow like a wanton rose from her cheeks to the tips of her breasts. Leaning forward, he takes one of her swollen nipples between his lips and tugs until her cry breaks the quiet night and triggers the onslaught of her release. He fills her with every ounce of his desire until he's afraid his knees will buckle from exertion, thankful to feel her arms blindly grab for his neck as he lifts his mouth from her breast.

She holds him tight as the side of the ship takes on the weight of their sated bodies, her legs once again on the deck between his and her head tucked peacefully beneath his chin.

"I don't think I will ever forget how breathtaking you looked just now, my love. You took my breath away."

"As a pirate captain, you should have know the benefits of taking the woman you love out on your ship before now."

A joyous laugh rumbles from his chest and he pulls her ever tighter.

"As your pirate _husband_ , I will make it my only mission to take my dearest Swan wherever she wishes to go."


	19. I don't need more than this

_This is my take on the evening after the wedding venue search…without interruptions…and maybe a bit more._

* * *

A few steps upon her deck is all it takes for Killian to feel grounded, the ancient wood beneath him welcoming him as it always has, no matter the realm. Fatigue from a seemingly endless day has him moving slowly, wishing he could go back to the start of it, to the first crack of dawn where he'd been nestled deep between Emma's thighs as they'd made love in time with the morning birdsong. It had been more languid than the previous night, lover's hands wrapped and probing as they kissed, nearly bringing each other to completion before he even slipped inside. He'd been unable to stop thinking about doing it all over again as he'd showered, quickly tossing on his clothes to seek her out in their kitchen downstairs. But then, life had intervened, in the form of Snow and his perfect morning had become just a tad less so.

Finding himself at the helm, he looks out onto the open water and lets his mind wander as he watches the moonlight dance atop the gentle tide. Marrying Emma here, while apparently impractical, is still what he would prefer. And Emma, the way she'd looked at him when he'd suggested it, he'd thought he'd seen agreement there in the sparkle of her eyes and felt it in the tightening of her hand around his waist. But then, life had intervened, again, and they'd been whisked all over town and found themselves making promises to wait, something he understands but doesn't want with his whole heart.

For a man hell bent on revenge and misery for so long, he continuously amazes himself at his apparent capacity to chase happiness now, his course firmly set on a life with Emma no matter how long that life may be. Speaking of, the hairs on the back of his neck rise at the sound of her boots coming closer on the dock and he smiles into the wind, the damp chill ruffling his collar as he turns to welcome his love as she comes aboard.

"You didn't have to come out here, love. I told you I'd meet you back at home if you called."

"It's been too long since I've been here and I…"

She interrupts her own sentence as her lips press into his, her hands finding their home atop his chest as he pulls her in close. He's unsure if she meant this kiss to be brief and welcoming, but he has other plans, his hand moving to her jaw to hold her steady as his tongue slides against the seam of her lips. And it's like they are back in their kitchen, picking up where they had left off with Emma's arms snaking around his shoulders as she pushes him back against the helm. Her coat is bulky and cumbersome compared to his thin robe she'd had on earlier, but she'd thankfully left it unbuttoned, giving him room to push his hand and hook inside and drag her even deeper between his spread legs.

"Bloody hell, Swan, I've been half hard since…"

"….pancakes, I know…"

His erection is pushing painfully against his jeans, but he can't stop kissing her, instead shifting one of her legs until her thigh can give him some much needed friction. As she takes the hint he releases a deep groan against her lips, his hand at her back pushing down to encourage the slight dance of her hips as her fingers slide the zipper of his vest south towards his waist. If he doesn't say something now, he will end up ravishing her right here, where it's too cold and entirely too public.

"Emma, we need to go below deck. Love, please…"

Her hand moves down to cup his erection, all of the blood in his body racing towards it like a magnet, making him almost miss the tug of her magic as she whisks them into his cabin. Words of appreciation get stuck in his throat as she pins him against the edge of his bed with her hips, her arms shrugging her coat to the floor as her nose runs along the edge his upturned jaw.

"This better?"

"Aye, love. Infinitely, so."

Fingers are soon wrestling with buttons and zippers, hers on his shirt and his on her jeans, his well practiced dexterity giving him access first. The sound she makes as he dips his fingers into her warmth has his stomach in knots, anticipation and need coiling so deep he has to stop and take a pacing breath. Being the woman he loves, she takes full advantage and makes a move of her own, dropping to her knees and taking him in her mouth the moment she's tugged his pants to the floor. He has to grip the mattress at the first touch of her tongue to the swollen tip of his cock, his release so close to spilling down her throat if he doesn't find himself an anchor.

"Emma, fuck…I don't want to…uhhh…you need to…stop…"

Her eyes open and she looks up, the sight of his cock deep between her lips as her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks more than he can take. Winding his hand gently into her hair, he urges her to pull her head back, imploring her with near panic in his eyes to have mercy. She does, but he's back to careening on the edge as she keeps eye contact as she strips herself bare. He's so mesmerized he forgets to do the same, her chuckle as she steps forward to pull his arms from his open shirt breaking him from his temporary trance.

"Have you ever heard the term fuckstruck?"

"No, but I can easily deduce its meaning, love. I take it that's how I'm looking at you now?"

Finally as naked as Emma, he drags her forward between his thighs, his erection hot and heavy against her hip as he nudges his nose against hers and waits for her answer.

"Yes. And it's how I was looking at you this morning."

"That look has left me hungry all day, Swan…" Slipping his hand down her back and around her hip, he slides his fingertips up between her legs, coating her swollen sex with her own arousal. "…and not for pancakes."

"Oh fuck…"

Chuckling against her lips, he stops torturing her long enough to switch their positions, pushing gently against her breastbone as he silently guides her to lay back on the mattress before him. He has to take himself in hand and give a few strokes as she widens her hips in invitation, her need for him pulsing towards him in waves that send his blood boiling and his limbs tightening in anticipation. Dropping to his knees he runs his nose along the crease of her thigh, his lips ghosting her warm skin as he lifts her thigh up and over his shoulder. The pull of her is too strong to resist and he buries his mouth against her sex, his tongue welcoming and cherishing her sweet musk as only a lover can. He worships at her altar as long as she allows, waiting until her hands dig at his hair and silence replaces the curses falling from her lips. He knows now that she's close, needing her just at the edge of bliss to match his own barely contained release.

She welcomes his mouth as he climbs up and over her, not caring that she can undoubtedly taste herself on his tongue. Her desire is like a hot spring, warming and welcoming him as their bodies begin to move, his cock sliding against her slick center until her hand takes hold and guides him home.

He needs to stop her from moving to give himself a moment, but she does it first, her hands holding tight to his waist as she pulls her lips back and looks up at him with an expression he can't quite decipher.

"Marry me, Killian."

His brow arches upwards in confusion and he reaches down to thumb at a stray hair that has been caught in the corner of her mouth.

"I thought that was already agreed to, my love?"

She takes a deep breath which has her breasts pushing against his chest and a flush of heat zinging down his spine.

"I mean _now_ , marry me now."

"Pardon?"

"Can't sea captains marry people?"

"Aye, it happens. I'm not sure of the legalities of it all…"

His words falter as her legs come up to wrap around his waist, burying him deeper and stealing all coherent thought as he grinds his hips down into hers. For a minute they are lost again to their passion, sweat building between their bellies with each meeting of his coarse hair against her soft skin.

"Do you, Killian, take me…." Her breath gives out on her as he hits her just right with his pelvic bone, but she continues, her words stealing away his breath the moment they fall from her lips. "…take me as your wife?"

"Emma…my love…I do, now and forever."

She shudders beneath him and tears gather behind his eyes, but he continues, speaking through the thick band of emotions lodged in his throat an increasing challenge.

"Do you, Emma, take me as your husband?"

Wrestling her hands free from around his waist, she takes a firm hold of his cheeks, pulling his head down towards hers until their lips brush and their breath mingle.

"I do, Killian…I do."

And then she's kissing him, deep and wet from tears seeping past their lips, both his and hers as happiness wraps them both in a blanket so tight he feels as if they've truly become one. Her hips rise beneath him and he thrusts in deep, the first gasp of her release warming his lips before he soon follows, spilling his seed with a blinding force that leaves him slightly lightheaded and loose like stretched out taffy.

She welcomes his body's collapse atop her, her fingernails scratching at the back of his head as her ankles hook around his calves. His lips move softly against her neck, tasting the sweat with his tongue as he tries to catch his breath.

"You were right, Killian, this was the perfect place for us to get married."

His heart clenches almost painfully in his chest at her words, loving her so much in this moment that he feels as though he might burst into a thousand tiny stars. Lifting his head, he looks down and hopes she can those stars shining only and forever for her in his eyes.

"More than perfect, if such a thing exists."

"We can still give my parents the big wedding, but I don't need more than this."

Leaning down, he kisses her softly, moving from her mouth to slide his swollen bottom lip along line of her jaw.

"Aye, no one has to know but us."

Her hands slide down from his neck to his back, her fingernails leaving raised trails along his skin as his mouth latches onto the still thrumming pulse along her neck. It only takes the first upward tilt of her hips to have his cock hardening again within her, ever at the ready whenever his lady is willing.

Her breath comes out in a throaty laugh just as her hands clamp down on his buttocks, urging him to press her down deeper into the mattress.

"Again?"

Growling against her skin, he pumps his hips a few times fast and deep.

"Aye, _wife_ , I'm more than up for another round if you are."


	20. past the clouds we'll find the stars

_Because these two deserve a damn honeymoon (filming spoilers ahead)…_

* * *

She can't take her eyes off of morning sun as it burnishes the thick blanket of clouds in orange and red, as wondrous a sight as any of the magic she's ever witnessed. It's a welcome distraction, as sleep has eluded her since taking off, her mind still turning with all that has happened and the uncertain future lying ahead. Reminding her that she doesn't have to face another day alone is the heavy weight of Killian's head on her shoulder and the warmth of his fingers tangled with hers on his lap. He'd fallen asleep soon after takeoff, mumbling _"this bloody contraption better not kill us, Swan"_ into her ear before pressing a kiss into her shoulder he'd then used as a pillow.

It was only yesterday that they'd been reunited, the final battle over and won. Her parents had begged them to take this time, explaining that David would be taking a break when they got back and prompting that Killian might think about partnering with Emma in a more official capacity in his place. Deputy Jones sounds pretty good to her ears, but she needs to make sure it's what Killian wants as well. With a full week ahead in Belize, there will be plenty of time to talk. Well, talking isn't really at the top of her priority list, but she hopes they can squeeze in a few chats between the sex and sun bathing.

Yes, they are actually taking a honeymoon. It's a damn miracle. And thanks to Killian's seemingly abundant treasure hidden all over town, they were able to afford a lovely private island where no one can reach them, not without a boat or satellite phone. It's the reminder of the solitude awaiting them that finally allows her mind to rest and her eyes to close, the smell of Killian's shampoo as his hair tickles her nose the last thing she remembers before falling asleep.

* * *

His tongue catches a drop of coconut-sweetened sweat as it slides down between her breasts, the taste momentarily distracting himself from his task of loosening the knot at her hip holding together the scraps of material she referred to mere minutes ago as her bikini. His jaw had hit the floor at the first sight of her stepping out onto their private sundeck, dark navy triangles covering just her breasts and her sex, anchored to her body with golden knots just begging to be untied. And that's how he's found himself here, on his knees with Emma's hand buried deep in his hair as he leaves love bites down the taught skin of her belly. His fingers finally free the knot and he wastes no time in lifting her leg over his shoulder, relishing the pleasure pain of Emma's fingernails digging into his scalp as he feels her sex throbbing against the flat of his tongue.

" _Fuck_ …I knew… _oh god_ …you'd like this bikini…"

Lifting his head from between her legs he looks up at her with a smirk, his fingers reaching around to give her firm ass a squeeze.

"It's indecent, my love, and you should wear it at home, often…as often as possible."

He doesn't give her a chance to reply, instead pulling a deep moan from her lips as he resumes his attention between her legs, tasting and suckling as he begins to ready her for him with his fingers. She's all warmth and languid movements, hips rocking against his mouth as her body leans back against the wooden railing for support. It's in moments like this that he misses his other hand, desperately in need of giving himself a few strokes of relief but his remaining fingers are otherwise occupied.

"Killian, get up here…"

Emma's fingers are pulling at his hair with less than gentle insistence and he breathes a deep sigh of relief against her sex, his hand pulling his swim shorts to the floor as he rises as bidden to meet her lips in a rather dirty kiss. Her hands grip hard at his neck as she sucks his tongue into her mouth, his nose pressing deep into the hot skin of her cheek as his blunted wrist slides down her sweat covered back.

Need has his cock swelling almost painfully between their bellies and he tries to break through the lusty haze of her kiss to guide them to a suitable position for what's to come next. The chaise lounge behind him will do, and he stops kissing her just long enough to fall back into it and drag her unceremoniously onto his lap. He ignores the sharp end of what he's sure will be a splinter of bamboo in his arse as Emma slides forward on his thighs, her hands finding anchor beside his head as she rocks her sex over the tip of his cock. The movement has pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as her head falls back, giving him a splendid view of her stretched out, bare and bloody gorgeous.

"You're killing me, Swan…"

Her head snaps forward as his thumb dips into the crease of her thigh, urging her to spread her legs a bit wider so the next time she rocks forward, he can slip…

" _Oh bloody hell_ …"

Her surge forward is purposeful, sinking him to the hilt within her without warning and leaving him sputtering for an ounce of control. Bloody vixen that she is, she shows no mercy as her hands curl around the back of the chair and she begins to take them on a quick and dirty ride. The gentle lap of the waves against the deck are drowned out by the sounds of their lovemaking, bodies slick with sweat meeting with urgency amidst heated words of encouragement passing from his lips to hers. The tips of her breasts are hard peaks against his chest and he reaches between them to roll her nipple between his fingers, knowing her sensitive spots as well as his own. Her cry of pleasure has him groaning into her mouth, his wrist at her back urging her to ride him harder, faster, finally letting himself go as her release first begins to spasm around his cock.

She's up on her feet on shaky legs far too soon and he tries to grab at her leg to bring her back, but she just smiles over her shoulder before diving into the crystal blue water. Not one to miss out on round two amidst the warm sea, he follows without haste. She's on him as soon as his head emerges from the waves, mouth warm and insistent as she circles her legs around his waist and he kicks forward to anchor his foot in the ladder of the floating dock at her back.

Breaking the kiss so he can take a breath, he pushes the wet hair stuck on her cheek back with his fingers before pushing his thumb into the dimple created by the dazzling smile she's bestowing him with.

"Happy, love?"

"Very. You?"

"Incandescently."

Her head falls back on a laugh and he pulls her in tighter, his nose catching drops of water falling from her chin as he leans in to press a kiss to her neck.

"Of course you'd pull out an SAT word in this moment."

"SAT?"

"Oh, sorry, _Royal Navy_ word in your world. It just means you have quite the vocabulary."

Opening his lips on her throat, he lets his teeth close gently over her skin before soothing the mark with his tongue. Lifting his mouth, he lets his lips brush against her now goosebump covered skin in gruffly spoken whispers.

"If you'd prefer the pirate, I've many uncultured words I'm more than happy to utter instead, love."

The gasp she releases has him proving his point, bringing her to completion with his fingers between her legs and his mouth whispering all the ways he's imagined of taking her on every single surface of his ship. Afterwards, when her hand finds his erection bobbing between them in the water it takes just a few quick strokes to have him spilling his seed into the sea on a shouted curse.

* * *

It's on their fifth night that she finally asks him about becoming a Deputy, with her head on his chest as they lie in the hammock beneath a blanket of stars.

"Does it mean I will always be by your side, Swan?"

"Yes."

"And I'll be helping keep the town safe, correct?"

"Yes."

"Sounds like what I've been doing for a while, so I don't see the need…

"You'll be able to throw Grumpy in jail whenever you want."

"Consider me deputized, Swan."


	21. everything in between

_After the final battle, Killian and Emma finally find their way home. (I like imagining the conversations we never see, and the sexy times that follow)_

* * *

The walk up to their door seems endless, both of them clinging to the last tendrils of adrenaline keeping them upright after a hellishly long day. Killian's lost track of the hour, but his body feels every minute spent, muscles still burning from his climb and fall from the beanstalk, head aching from clenching his teeth as Emma performed her Savior's sacrifice before his eyes. Her fingers give his a gentle squeeze causing her wedding ring to press against his and like a rope snapping loose in the wind, he becomes completely untethered. Eyes burning with overflowing emotion, he stops, turns and gathers her close, tucking his face into her hair as hot tears splash down over his cheeks.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

Shaking his head, he just pulls her in tighter, not sure of how to express the weight of everything crashing down over him, just knowing he needs to hold her and allow himself a moment to find his bearings. Her woolen cap is slightly rough against his temple, but it's so achingly Emma that he finds himself leaning further into it, the threads drying the tracks of his tears. Keeping his hook anchored against her back, he loosens his grip on her jacket so he can cup her cheek with his hand, forcing a shaky smile upon his lips as he finds her worried eyes with his own.

"Sorry, Swan, it's been an exceedingly trying day."

Her thumb closes over his lips as if to stop him from apologizing further, her feet shuffling forward as she presses their foreheads close and she nudges his nose with the tip of hers.

"Can I tell you something?"

Catching the pad of her thumb with a quick kiss before she pulls it away from his lips, he feels a bit of himself fall back into place at his own playfulness.

"Anything, love."

"In the Enchanted Forest when we went back in time and we were in the castle, watching as Snow was killed, or so we thought, you remember that?"

"Of course."

His breath catches as her hand moves to cover his heart, her fingertips warm and strong as she leans in to press her cheek against his collarbone, her arms winding around his waist in a tight embrace. Still unsure as to where this conversation is headed, he holds her close, waiting for her to explain this trip down memory lane.

"You put your arms around me and held me and I…I didn't pull away, didn't want to because I needed your support. I think about that moment a lot. Because in my heart, I'm pretty sure it's when I first realized that I was ready to not be alone anymore."

He wishes he could find the words to tell her how much hearing this means to him, but he thinks she already knows, which is why she's chosen to share this with him now.

"You'll never be alone again, Emma."

"I think I can handle that."

A chuckle rumbles in his chest at the memory those words bring forth and he's once again reminded of how far they've come. Adversaries to lovers to husband and wife…

And now, he's once again focused on the moment at hand.

"My love, I had hoped to carry you over the threshold as is customary for our first night of marriage, but I beg upon your mercy and your magic. Can you whisk us upstairs to bed now please?"

Emma's hands move to grip at his lapels as she lifts her head from his chest, her joyful smile meeting his in a quick kiss. Her fingers flutter briefly and he waits with a smile for the telltale tug.

Within seconds, he's swept away and finds himself sinking into the welcome comfort of their mattress beneath bare skin, but is bereft at the lack of his wife in the bed beside him.

"Swan?"

That's when he sees her, leaning against the open door of their bedroom in a slip of scarlet silk, the smooth fabric draping from her breasts and stopping at the top of her thighs. His mouth falls open and he's sure he's making himself a fool, but his tongue is tied in so many knots he worries he will never be able to speak again.

Thankfully, Emma is not having the same trouble. Crossing to the edge of the bed, she runs her hands down the sides of the neglige, her eyes darkening to the deepest of green as he looks up at her with unguarded hunger.

"I know white is customary, but red is more my color."

"You look…"

Ignoring the protesting muscles of his back, he sits up and leans against the headboard and she's on the bed in a flash, his hand slipping over the smooth material as he pulls her into his lap.

"I know."

He kisses the playful smirk from her lips with a hungry kiss, urging her with hand and wrist at her thighs to come closer. She does and his world begins to spin as he realizes she's bare beneath the silk, her slow slide forward needing only a moment for her body to stretch before he's anchored deep.

"Emma…"

Warm lips fall on his and he's happy to be silenced, happy to succumb to his siren as she moves like the waves on the open ocean, his body his ship welcoming each incoming crest. When her head falls back on a well aligned thrust, his eyes fall to her breasts, nipples tight and sliding beneath shiny silk just begging for his touch. She cries out when he does, his thumb teasing her covered skin until she tugs the thin straps down her arms, the silk quickly gathering in a scarlet pool around her waist. He kisses her as he gathers her perfect breast in his palm, the strength of her response near crushing his hand between them as her arms snake around his neck and she shifts her hips to draw him further inside.

"God, right there…"

He's perilously close to falling apart beneath her, but he has no will to deny her needs. Barely able to pull full breaths from his lungs as her hips slam down harder and harder, he just tries to hold on, begging her silently with the bruises he's sure to be leaving on her skin to take what she needs quickly before he succumbs. Her first cry of release breaks the last tenuous thread of his control and he's spilling within her, his heart near bursting with relief as his wife collapses, sated and breathless against his chest. Words of love are mumbled into his neck and he echoes them, turning his head so he can bury his nose into the sweaty mess of her hair.

There was a time earlier in the day when he was unsure if they would make it back to this place, him almost disappearing into nothingness with Emma a realm away not even knowing of their love. But somehow, thanks to her belief, they made it home.

She is his and he is hers, his partner in life and love and everything in between for all eternity.


End file.
